


Can't Get You Out of My Head

by WildWren



Series: One Time at Wessex College [3]
Category: The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: (not just a love arrow), Aldrikflaed, Anal Sex, Angst, But like an actual love triangle, But there is still plenty of, Explicit Sex, F/M, F/M/M Throuple, F/M/M threesome, Internalized Biphobia, Internalized Homophobia, It's a Love Triangle, It's also got a sort of comedy of errors vibe that I'm enjoying, Leftist critical theory, Light Sub/Dom, M/M, Mentions of Homophobic Abuse, Multi, Oral Sex, Perhaps less angsty than my usual fare, Roasting of American college institutional politics, Voyeurism, alcohol use, bisexual awakening, like the kind of love triangle you resolve with a gay threesome, mentions of anti-semitic conspiracy theories, mentions of family abuse, mentions of physical abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:02:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28857024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildWren/pseuds/WildWren
Summary: Erik and Aethelflaed’s “not-a-relationship” relationship has been going on for a few months, and it’s fulfilling enough - when they actually get to spend any time together. But Erik’s lonely angst is eased a bit when he gets assigned to an Econ project with resident “cool nerd” Aldhelm Morris. Aldhelm is exactly the kind of friend Erik needs - smart, expressive, less burdened with the kinds of toxic relational dynamics that have plagued Erik his entire life. But what started as a friendship starts to feel like something else, prompting Erik to call on Aethelflaed for emotional support…and perhaps a *bit* more than that.OR:I tried to fill out Aethelflaed’s  F/M/M threesome bingo card and instead wrote a bisexual awakening fic and accidentally set myself out to sea on the wholesomest ship I ever did sail on: Aldrik.Primarily an Aldrik vehicle, but with a sizable helping of Aethelrik, a not-insignificant taster course of Aldflaed, and a hearty threesome of Aldrikflaed.
Relationships: Aethelflaed Lady of Mercia/Aldhelm (The Last Kingdom), Aethelflaed Lady of Mercia/Erik Thurgilson, Aethelflaed/Erik/Aldhelm, Aldhelm/Erik Thurgilson
Series: One Time at Wessex College [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2101398
Comments: 69
Kudos: 7





	1. other kinds of guys

**Author's Note:**

> So..... there's a lot of threads that combined to give birth to this fic:
> 
> 1\. naps4bats planting the idea of a bisexual Erik in my mind with her fic "Rushing Water," making me (LITERALLY) incapable of thinking of anything else ever since. 
> 
> 2\. the plethora of Aethelflaed-based F/M/M threesomes by authors such as greenwillow, kirstenseas, naps4bats, missguided12 which made me want to write my own. 
> 
> 3\. kingwellsjaha's Tumblr text post about Erik x Aldhelm which truly set this ship afloat. Also thanks to them for directing me to [THIS COVER SONG](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RacxNskxySo) which I actually cannot stop listening to and you should listen to it too. 
> 
> 4\. greenwillow's consistenly helpful feedback and co-writerly input on all things Aldhelm and Aldrik (seriously like, she might as well be a co-writer on this for the amount of feedback she has given me, especially about Aldhelm's characterization.) 
> 
> anyway, now I feel like I'm giving some sort of awards acceptance speech which is exactly the kind of grandiose bullshit I have to self-crit for, but I will say, if I ever do get to accept some sort of award, I hope it's for something that I love as much as I love these gay college nerds. 
> 
> Only CW for this chapter: Mentions of Physical Abuse / Family Abuse

**friday // feb 2nd**

“Mr. Thurgilson? _Mr. Thurgilson!”_

“Hmm?” Erik looked up from his lap, where he’d been refreshing the Messaging App on his phone. Professor Aelswith was staring at him with an expression of deeply tested patience, her eyebrows raised and her mouth curled into a small shape. 

“I was asking you, Mr. Thurgilson, if you had a rebuttal to Mr. Morris’ last point. I do believe you were assigned the alternate reading, and you have yet to speak in this debate.” 

Erik glanced around. Most of his classmates were looking at him expectantly, or else smothering their expressions of humor or sympathetic cringe into their hands. Aldhelm Morris was halfway across the room, his face colored with curiosity. 

“Ummm, I…agree with him,” Erik said, grasping for a slip of a memory of what they’d been talking about. “And…his points about…markets.” 

“Hmm.” Aelswith pursed her lips - a clear sign of disapproval. “In that case, I’m uncertain whether you understand the meaning of a _mock debate_ , Mr. Thurgilson. Perhaps you should get clear on that before you do your next reading.” 

“Uhhh, I’ll do that, Professor Aelswith.” Erik hoped his face wasn’t becoming visibly red. It wasn’t the first time he’d been ripped into in front of his Econ class by Aelswith, but that fact didn’t make the experience any less unpleasant now. 

“And do try to pay attention, Mr. Thurgilson.” _Jesus, how many times was she gonna say his name like that? It was a bit overkill, no?_ “Or I’ll have to fail you on participation.” 

“Yep.” Erik nodded down at his desk. 

“Alright, then,” Aelswith said, and her laser-beam gaze moved off of him to fall onto some other hapless victim. 

Erik let out a breath and looked back at his phone. Still no message. 

That was fine, he told himself. That was normal. Just because she texted him most Fridays didn’t mean she texted him every Friday, and just because she usually texted him by now on Fridays didn’t mean she might not still text later. She texted him on Saturdays sometimes, too. Maybe that’s what would happen this weekend. 

This was the weird thing that Erik and Aethelflaed did: they hooked up every weekend or so, almost without fail. It was always in her room - Erik would never risk having her in his own room, which was not a safe place, not even for himself - he knew that now. She would text him when she was free and when there wasn’t anyone else around to bother them or see them. Erik understood that this was because she was hiding the truth from her own friends, not wanting to admit she was involved with a guy who had fucked her over once already and was probably likely (from any objective standpoint) to do so again. 

And it was probably better that way, anyway. 

Erik never texted her - he never said “Can I come over?” or “I want to see you tonight.” He felt like this would be unfair, like he would be forcing her to arrange her life for the sake of him when he couldn’t even allow her to have any visible existence within his own. Better to let her fit him in around the edges, in the cracks between the things that actually mattered — the things that were actually real. 

So Erik would wait for her to text, and when she did, he’d get to see her. And if she didn’t, that was okay, too. That was normal. 

Erik checked the messenger again. Still no text. 

“…next assignment,” Aelswith was saying, and Erik realized he’d been zoned out again.He looked up hastily, pulling his notebook towards himself, hoping he hadn’t missed any essential bits already. “You’ll be pairing with someone who took the opposite stance in today’s debate. You’ll share viewpoints from your divergent sources — _if you have them._ ” She looked very pointedly at Erik as she said this. “And you’ll try to answer the question outlined on page 110 of the textbook. You’ll prepare a ten-minute lecture for the class with your takeaways. Presenting duties _must_ be shared. Do I make myself clear?” 

There was a murmured chorus of “Yes, Professors,” and many nods of assent. Aelswith expected active listening. She gave a tight smile and touched the dark bun that was knotted at the back of her neck, then picked up a sheet off her desk and began reading names. 

Erik almost zoned out yet again - he was still thinking about Aethelflaed, and not even about having sex with her, (although he had thought about that a lot throughout the day). But now, he was just thinking how nice it would be to see to her, how hungry he was to talk to her, how lonely the week had passed for him. 

“Mr. Thurgilson.” He came alert. “You’ll be paired with Mr. Morris.” Erik glanced around the room and caught Aldhelm’s eye briefly. The other man gave a short nod, his face unreadable, but Erik could imagine what he was thinking. Aldhelm was the smartest student in the class. He asked questions that Erik didn’t quite understand, let alone the answers. Some students said he’d gotten 102% on their first exam, which seemed impossible because there hadn’t been an extra credit question. But somehow, Erik believed it. 

Aldhelm was not the kind of guy who wanted to be paired with Erik, he was certain of that. Now Aelswith was giving him a triumphant look as if her plan of punishment had begun. But whether it was punishment for him or for Aldhelm, Erik couldn’t say. 

They touched base after class, on the nicely landscaped terrace outside the Econ and Polisci building. It seemed Aldhelm had been waiting for Erik there and caught his eye as he approached. Erik couldn’t help but notice - not for the first time - that Aldhelm even dressed like a smart person: a collared button-up shirt beneath a long-sleeved V-neck sweater, well-tailored pants down to leather shoes. He wore a pair of squarish horn-rimmed glasses that somehow looked more hip than nerdy on his long, chiseled face, and he had a close-trimmed beard that was both darker and neater than Erik’s own. 

Erik gave him a greeting smile and rubbed the back of his head with his hand, very conscious that if his clothes came with an identity label, it would probably be: slacker, or maybe stoner. Erik didn’t think he actually counted as either of those things, but he was sure his performance in class today had done little to win him points. 

Aldhelm let out a sigh, but Erik had the sense that it wasn’t directed at him. “So,” Aldhelm said with a smile. “You and I against Aelswith, eh?” 

Erik laughed. “Yea…I guess that’s one way to look at it.” 

“She really went into you back there. Sorry.” 

“It’s not your fault. I should’ve been paying attention. I’m sure you _were_ making a good point, even it is wasn’t about…markets.” 

“It was, actually. But it was a little half-formed. I was secretly hoping you were about to come back at me with an eviscerating counterpoint.” 

“Sorry.” Erik felt a little of pang regret that he hadn’t. “So, uh….when do you wanna start?” 

“Well…” Aldhelm took a small moleskin notebook out of his back pocket and flipped through its pages. “We have 2 weeks to get the presentation done. Want to start on Monday? I know that’s somewhat soon…” He gave Erik a sidelong look, and Erik remembered the slacker identity label he was probably wearing. “But I like to get an early start on these things. I find it’s easier in the long run.” 

“No, that’s fine!” Erik’s voice was perhaps a bit overemphasized. He was just eager to prove he wasn’t planning to be dead weight. “I don’t have much else going on.” He only realized how pathetic that sounded after he said it. 

Aldhelm nodded, his forehead slightly creased, as if Erik’s personality was not quite adding up for him. “Meet in the library? How does the morning work, 10 am?” Erik was impressed with the efficiency of Aldhelm’s scheduling. They hadn’t even had to go through 3 minutes of _but what works for you’_ s and _but only if you’re around_ ’s, which was exactly how Erik would have handled the conversation. 

“Yea,” he said. “That works.” 

Aldhelm nodded again and made a note in his little moleskin. 

“I’ll see you then,” he said, and he gave a satisfied smile, as if pleased with the accomplishment of a small, important task. 

And then he strode off, and Erik was left alone with his message-less phone. 

Aethelflaed didn’t text. Erik killed a few hours of time in his room, trying to do some reading, and then giving up and watching old cartoons on Netflix. He even turned off his phone for an hour and then turned it back on, a superstitious sort of ritual that was both embarrassing and ineffectual. There were still no messages. He thought about going to the dining hall for dinner - he probably could have found Dagfinn there or a couple of other guys. Cnut was always down to eat with him, he knew, but there were only so many stories he could bear to listen to about the interpersonal drama in Cnut’s death metal band, and he had reached that limit weeks ago. 

So he skipped the dining hall, and instead ate a box of Cheez-Its for dinner, which was not a great choice. 

Around 9:00 pm, he walked to Sigefrid’s. 

It was a desperate move, Erik had to admit. But he told himself it was a good chance to put in some hours with his brother while he had nothing better to do. His Dad had backed off a bit since the winter holidays, and as long as Erik touched base with Sigefrid every other day or so, his Dad didn’t need to hear from him directly. It was the kind of deal that was too good to pass up, and Erik would have endured as many of Sigefrid’s coke-fueled parties as necessary to keep it going. 

And aside from all that….he _was_ feeling lonely. 

Erik was surprised to find Sigefrid outside of his apartment, standing on the sidewalk near his black M3 Beamer where it was parked on the street. The night was dark, and Sigefrid’s house was situated between two street lamps, but as he got closer, Erik started to understand. 

He came up and stood beside his brother, staring at the car. Neither spoke for a long moment. 

“Skade,” Sigefrid said finally, by way of explanation. 

The car had been completely trashed. All 4 tires were slashed and sagging against the road. One clouded glass window had been smashed completely and another was covered in spiderwebbed cracks shooting out from a circle of gritted glass, as if it had been hit with a baseball bat but not broken. Across the hood, the words _ASS LICKER_ were scratched out in a jagged scrawl, which seemed to Erik like an oddly specific sort of insult. All the lights were broken, and coming from one window was a thin cloud of smoke with the stench of burnt plastic and…

“Oh god.” Erik covered his nose with the sleeve of his coat. “What the fuck is that?” 

“I don’t know.” Sigefrid was just shaking his head, his eyes wide and fixed on the car with dull focus. “I don’t even fucking know, man.” 

“What did you do?” Erik asked, but Sigefrid just gave him a dark look and said nothing. The fact that Sigefrid wasn’t yelling, or fuming, or threatening to _fucking kill Skade in her fucking sleep_ probably meant one of two things. Either Sigefrid was more tender for Skade than Erik had realized, or else…he had really, _really_ deserved it. 

“…What are you gonna do?” Erik asked, swayed back and forth a bit to keep warm in the night’s chill. 

Sigefrid grunted in thought. “I’ve got a garage I can go to…way outside of town…outside of range.” He meant outside of their Dad’s range, because even though Sigefrid was a bully for their Dad, he still had things to hide from him too sometimes. There was a strange intimacy in Sigefrid admitting it now. 

“You got the money for that?” 

“I will.” Sigefrid’s tone suggested that Erik was done asking questions. They stood in silence for a long time, watching the putrid smoke float away with the cold steam of their breath. 

“Don’t tell Dad.” 

Erik looked up at his brother, and maybe it was Sigefrid’s weird mood, or the uncanny openness of the moment that prompted him to say it. “I never bring your shit to Dad, Sigefrid. That makes one of us.” 

It was the kind of thing that might have made Sigefrid hit him too hard in the ribs, or clap him on the back of the head so sharply that he saw stars. But Sigefrid didn’t move. He just stared at the car and nodded distantly. Erik almost felt a little bad for him, then. 

“I’ll go get some trash bags,” he said and went into the house. 

**monday // feb 5th**

Erik sat in the library’s reading room at a square table in the corner near the periodicals. It was 9:50 am, and he’d been there since 9:35, a fact which was making him feel increasingly idiotic as the time dragged on. It had made sense when he’d finished breakfast early — to just come here, to make sure he’d read the assignment in preparation for the meeting. 

But now he’d read the assignment through three times already and was running out of things to do to make himself look busy. 

Aldhelm arrived at 9:55 - a perfectly respectable margin of earliness - and looked a little surprised to see Erik there already, his binder and textbook open, his pen tapping nervously against the edge of the table. Erik wondered if he’d expected him to be late. 

“How’s it going?” Aldhelm asked, settling in opposite Erik at the table with a practiced sort of efficiency - laying his books out in a neat array, opening his binder, taking out one of those fancy, re-fillable mechanical pencils with the metal case. 

“Oh. Alright,” Erik replied, which was the closest he was likely to come to saying “ _like shit_ ,” but Aldhelm nodded, suggesting that he was also “alright.” Erik was uncertain whether for Aldhelm, this also actually meant “ _like shit_.” 

Aldhelm didn’t waste much more time with small talk. He wasn’t rude about it, he was just direct, and Erik appreciated the efficient honesty of it. They were here to work, not socialize. 

Erik knew that. 

Aldhelm dove right into a review of the sources they were expected to use, starting to categorize them by focus. He drew a little chart in his notebook, making the columns with long, straight pencil strokes, and then wrote each author's name down in the appropriate spot as they worked through them all, one by one. Erik was relieved to find himself mostly keeping up, but he supposed it wasn’t too surprising. He _had_ finally caught up on all the reading this weekend. 

He hadn’t had anything better to do. 

Aethelflaed never texted - not on Friday, and not on Saturday either. By Sunday morning, Erik had hit the bottom of something like a downward spiral and had convinced himself that Aethelflaed had probably met someone else. She’d probably been hanging out with them all weekend - that’s why she hadn’t texted. And that was fine. That was fair. 

The thing they had together wasn’t exclusive. 

(Even though, Erik said to himself, it _had_ been exclusive up until then. He knew this because they had agreed to tell each other if they slept with someone else, because they weren’t using condoms when they had sex. But this didn’t really matter, he knew. The fact that it _had_ been exclusive up to that point was more a matter of coincidence than design, and so if she _was_ seeing someone else now, that was okay. And who could blame her, really? Why wouldn’t she want to be with someone else, someone whose life she could _actually_ belong in, unlike with him, and he really couldn’t complain, could he? This was what _he_ had arranged, this was the situation _he_ had required, it was his fault things were like this at all, and—) 

This was the general shape that Erik’s downward spiral took. Reading Adam Smith was a breeze in comparison. 

“No, that won’t work,” Aldhelm was saying. He was deep in thought, his eyes scanning down over his notes. “Aelswith won’t be happy if we take that approach.” 

“What approach?” Erik pulled himself off the edge he’d been teetering on, starting to feel concerned again about looking like a leech. But it was a bit hard not to when Aldhelm seemed to have the contents of an entire encyclopedia in his head. 

“Oh, mmm…” Aldhelm looked up, as if just now remembering he was there. “You’ve read _Capital?”_

“Ummm…” Erik wasn’t sure whether to be surprised or flattered that Aldhelm thought he’d read _Capital_. “Haven’t gotten around to it yet,” he said. 

Aldhelm nodded, suggesting that this was an acceptable answer. “It’s a bit overhyped,” he said, “but worth reading and drawing your own conclusions.”

“Right.” Erik felt like he might be better served by just having Aldhelm tell him the takeaways. He had the sense that Aldhelm’s conclusions were the right ones. 

Aldhelm was shuffling through the papers at the front of his binder. “Looks like we’ve got a few sections assigned at the end of the semester,” he said, his eyes scanning down the syllabus. “But I doubt we’ll get anything even close to a neutral perspective from Aelswith. She can’t afford to risk accusations of ‘cultural Marxism’ in a WASP-nest like this. Not that Aelswith would be one to go against dogma anyway.”

Erik thought he knew what Aldhelm was on about. He’d heard a group of kids in another class talk about a sit-in at the President's Office. It was in protest of the firing of an Associate Professor who’d been accused of promoting ‘radical leftism’ in the classroom. Then there’d been the week of unrest when the college Republican Committee had invited an Alt-Right speaker with neo-fascist connections to come and speak, and the College had upheld their right to the event. Erik had almost wanted to participate in the protests, but he hadn’t. 

“Sorry for the rant,” Aldhelm was saying. He smiled at Erik apologetically. “Bit of a family albatross.” 

“Oh?” Erik was not sure what this meant. 

“My parents are academics,” Aldhelm explained. “Mom’s in Physics, she avoids most of it, but Dad’s in History. Spends half his time embroiled in the ideology wars. Apparently even letting students read Zinn now amounts to ‘revisionism.’

“Hmmm.” It was almost disconcerting, how much Aldhelm seemed to think Erik was his equal in these conversations. Erik was used to people like Aldhelm treating him like a sack of stuffing, and in their defense, he didn’t usually do much to disabuse them of the idea. He’d spent most of his life being made to feel like a fool so his Dad and Sigefrid could feel big. Sometimes it was just easier not to fight it. 

But it was a different kind of feeling now, to realize that Aldhelm thought he could keep up. Even if he actually couldn’t. 

“I don’t think I know what you mean.” 

“Oh.” Now was the moment when Aldhelm would bite back a smile, look back down at his notes, say “ _Nevermind_ ” or something like that, and then decide to just do the entire project for the two of them by himself, ‘cause that was probably less hassle than dragging a brick of dead weight behind him. 

But instead Aldhelm rested his elbows on the desk, steepling his hands in front of his face and giving Erik a serious look. 

“So Howard Zinn, he wrote _A People’s History of the United States_? It’s a pretty important work, does a lot to challenge some of the colonial narratives and other founding myths that Americans love to cling to, and of course that makes the old guard of academiauncomfortable.” 

Erik nodded, grateful for the explanation. It made sense. 

“It’s not perfect, of course,” Aldhelm went on. His hands had come unsteepled and now moved of their own accord as Aldhelm spoke, brushing over themselves, then turning upwards to the air as if to release his words across the table towards Erik. “I think there are other, better voices we can look to now — indigenous peoples, women, People of Color — but my Dad loves his Zinn.” Aldhelm gave a low laugh, his eyes distant on a corner of the table, and Erik could tell he was thinking of his father with affection. “We argue about that kind of stuff sometimes. He means well, but he’s a bit of Boomer, you know? You know how Dads are.” 

Erik gave a stiff laugh. “Yea,” he said. “My Dad beats the shit out of me whenever I disagree with him.” 

Aldhelm’s face turned to him, very concerned, and Erik actually bit his tongue inside his mouth. 

“Are you…are you being serious, Erik?” 

Why had he said that? Why _the fuck_ had he said that? Erik felt like that might have been the stupidest thing he had ever said in his entire life, even though that was objectively untrue. It still felt that way. What was he supposed to do now, pretend it was a joke? With other kinds of guys, he might have gotten away with that, or played it off as a brag, a battle-scar kind of boast. 

But that wouldn’t work with Aldhelm, Erik knew. What kind of asshole would make a joke like that anyway? 

“Yea,” he said, looking down at his hands. “I don’t know why I said that, sorry. It’s not a big deal.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Erik saw Aldhelm’s pencil tapping lightly against his arm. 

“It sounds like a big deal.” 

Erik smoothed the fabric of his jeans over his knee a few times, a small repetitive motion. “Yea. I mean it is, but… yea.” Then he let out a breath and looked back up. 

“Anyway…um…I’ll try to read some of the Marx stuff? If you think it would be helpful?” 

Aldhelm looked at him for a long moment, his eyes narrowed in a steady way, as if there was something important written on the back of Erik’s skull that he was trying to read. But then he broke the gaze, looking down to rifle through his notes again. 

“Uhh…Yea, why not? Let’s do it.” His expression was almost conspiratorial. “Let’s go with the Marxist angle.” 

“Yea?” Erik was relieved that the intense moment seemed to have passed.

“Aelswith will absolutely roast us in front of the entire class, but…” 

“I mean, if you haven’t had a good Aelswith roast, have you even really lived?” 

Aldhelm snorted, a small, surprised sound of relief and humor. Erik smiled at his reaction. 

“I should probably get going soon,” Aldhelm said, looking down at his watch. “I’m meeting a friend for lunch.”

“Oh, yea. No worries. When do you want to meet again?” 

Aldhelm looked at him again in that narrow-eyed way. “Are you…around tomorrow? Same time? I just feel like we’ve got some good momentum going, might as well use it.” 

Erik felt something like relief, although he couldn’t have said why. “Sure, yea. Yea, I’m around. I don’t have class till the afternoon.” 

“Great.” Aldhelm smiled. “Same time tomorrow then.”

Aldhelm stood up, gathering his books together and arranging them neatly in his messenger bag. He checked his watch again, pushing back the sleeve of his sweater to his elbow. He rolled up the other one to match it, then pressed his hands open against each other, cracking the knuckles out. 

“Take it easy, Erik,” he said, and Erik looked up, realizing his eyes had been zoned out a little on Aldhelm’s hands. 

“Yea, you too.” 

And Aldhelm nodded and strode off, clasping Erik once on the shoulder in a gesture of parting. 

Aethelflaed sat at the back corner table of the dining left where she usually met Aldhelm and watched a blob of thick Greek yogurt slide from her spoon back into the bowl. Aldhelm was late, which was out of character, and the fact made her feel sour and petulant against her better judgment. 

She’d been in a weird mood all weekend, ever since…well, ever since _not_ texting Erik, and then…continuing to not text him for reasons she couldn’t quite put into words. She had wanted to see him, of course she had, but…

“Hello!” 

Aldhelm’s greeting startled her a bit. 

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, sliding in opposite from her and setting his tray down. “Got held up in the library.” 

“It’s alright,” she said, trying not to let the weirdness bleed into her voice. But Aldhelm’s face creased with concern, and she thought she might have been unsuccessful. 

“Is everything okay?” He asked gently. “You seem a little…down.” 

Aethelflaed let out a breath, surprisingly grateful that he had called her bluff. “I’m okay, I’m just…I’ve been wanting your advice, actually.” 

“Oh?” Aldhelm cast his glance out across the dining hall, as if making sure they weren’t overheard, or perhaps looking for someone. It felt like a strange gesture to Aethelflaed, and it put her on edge just a little. 

“Yea,” she said, with a bit of unnecessary force. “I’ve actually been…I’ve been seeing someone for a few months. I know, we usually tell each other stuff like that, I’m sorry. I wasn’t hiding it or anything. It’s just…kind of a weird situation.” 

“Okay…” Aldhelm said, nodding. His eyes were still a little distant as he chewed his toast.

“And I…” 

And what? _And I feel like I have all the power and no power at all. I feel weird every time I text him, because what if he doesn’t come? But he always comes, and that’s weird too, isn’t it? And he never texts me - but that’s just the way it is with us — and it has to do with his family, and all this other bullshit that’s not really my business, but I wish it was my business, or maybe I just feel like I should wish it was —_

“I’m sorry,” she said instead, with a clipped tone. “Am I boring you? You seem distracted.” 

Aldhelm’s eyes widened as he brought his gaze back to her face. He’d been looking around the hall again. 

“No. _No_ , I’m sorry. I…I _am_ a little distracted. It’s…” He shook his head, as if unable to speak what it was that was distracting him. “Please, tell me what’s going on. I’d like to help, if I can.” 

Aethelflaed immediately felt guilty for her outburst. She hadn’t even asked him how _he_ was doing. She’d just dove into her own problems and expected him to be right there with her. But he always was, wasn’t he? 

“I’m sorry, Aldhelm.” She rubbed her face with an embarrassed gesture, wincing in apology. “I’m just on edge right now, it’s not your fault. What’s going on with you?” 

“Nothing, truly. It’s nothing. I just had…a weird conversation is all.” 

“Weird in a…good way? Or a bad way?” 

“Umm…” His gaze became distant again, as if he was replaying something from his memory. “….bad, I’d say? Not all of it. But it just…I can’t really say more, I’m sorry. It’s not my business to tell, I don’t think.” 

Aethelflaed nodded. “I understand,” she said, even though she wasn’t sure she did.

Aldhelm let out a heavy breath. “I’m just a little…worried about someone, I guess. But I don’t think I can help them.” He looked back up to Aethelflaed with an apologetic smile. “But maybe I can help you? With…whatever’s getting you down?” 

Aethelflaed felt her heart ease, a gentle melting feeling of affection in her chest for Aldhelm, for the steadiness of his friendship. She clasped his hand for a moment where it lay on the table. 

“I’m okay,” she said, drawing her hand away. “I’m just being stupid, I think. It’s probably too long of a story to tell now anyway.” 

“If you’re sure….?” Aldhelm said, tentatively. 

“Yea,” she said. “I’m sure.” 

Aldhelm nodded, and they lapsed back into easier conversation, then slid into a companionable silence for several minutes as they ate. 

And Aethelflaed did feel better. For a little while. 


	2. soft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aethelflaed finally texts Erik. Erik decides he and Aldhelm might actually be friends now, and then immediately proceeds to mess things up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CWs: Somewhat Explicit Sex, Internalized Homophobia and other varieties of Repressed Bisexual Angst, mentions of Anti-Semitic Conspiracy theories 
> 
> (also, I do not know why I went so hard into the conspiracy theories in this chapter, or rather I do, and it's something along the lines of "if you don't have at least 3 co-workers, weird family members, and ex-friends who are obsessed with some next-level bullshit, are you even an American living in 2021?" but seriously, it's wHAck here you guys, send help.)
> 
> (also, edited some of the conspiracy theory stuff post-publication because I realized I just wanted to laugh at conspiracy theorists but I did NOT have the intention of being lighthearted about anti-semitism, so I changed some things around. still, I think most of these conspiracy theories are, at root, linked to anti-semitism, and just to be clear: I do not think that is funny....)

**tuesday // feb 6th**

Erik and Aldhelm met again the next day at the same table in the library. Erik exercised some self-control this time and actually arrived at 9:55. He was a little pleased to find that Aldhelm was there first, greeting him with a nod and a thoroughly controlled smile. He knew it didn’t really matter who got there first. But for some reason, he was glad it wasn’t him. 

“How’s it going?” Aldhelm asked. Erik saw him straighten out the edge of his binder, so it was aligned in a neat row with the rest of his things on the table. 

“Alright, yea. Alright,” Erik said, and he meant it a little more than he had the last time, even if he had been up until 1 am the night before trying to wrap his head around the labor theory of value and the concept of dialectical materialism. He was still feeling a little bleary because of it. 

He sat down, taking out the battered copy of _Capital_ he’d gotten from the library the night before, as if to provide some physical proof of his efforts for Aldhelm’s consideration. 

“How are you finding it?” Aldhelm asked, nodding at the book. 

“Ummmm….” In truth, Erik’s attempt with the book had involved dragging his eyes across the pages over and over again until they blurred and then closing it and listening to YouTube videos instead until he fell asleep. 

Aldhelm was smiling knowingly. “The first part’s quite hard. I must admit, I only made it through because my Dad was explaining it all to me the whole time.”

“Oh.” Erik felt a burst of relief. Perhaps he wasn’t just terminally dense. “Yea, I mean, I think I’m starting to get it…a bit.” 

Aldhelm nodded in approval, and Erik let a nervous smile bloom across his face.

“It’s not really a system of its own, of course. It’s more…a style of critique, a lens through which to view other developments and concepts in Economic thought. I was thinking…” Aldhelm was starting to speak faster, as if excited, and he leaned forward across the table, pressing his weight onto his elbows and tapping his pencil as he spoke. “I was thinking: we could critique the sources Aelswith’s given us through the Marxist lens, as a sort of performance — like a demonstration — of how the theory can be used. It’s not a direct answer to the prompt, but I think it meets the criteria of the project in a roundabout sort of way —”

Aldhelm cut himself off, looking up at Erik with a question in his eye. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m kind of…getting ahead of myself here. Did you have any thoughts?” 

“No!” Erik said. “No, I think…that makes sense. It sounds like a fun project.” 

“It’s just, I can do that sometimes, kind of…take control like that. I don’t intend to — I’m not trying to be bossy about it. I just get excited.” 

“No, Aldhelm, I…” Erik watched Aldhelm’s earnest, clever face, his eyes narrowed behind the lenses of his glasses with concern, and he felt a laugh rise to his throat — honest and un-self-conscious. “I’m an idiot, Aldhelm. You haven’t realized that yet? Of course I’m happy to follow your lead.” 

Aldhelm’s face creased with a look of confused amusement. “You’re not an idiot, Erik.” 

“No, really.” Erik laughed again at himself, at the memory, which suddenly felt like a thing that was perfectly suited to make Aldhelm smile. “You should have seen me last night, trying to watch videos about this stuff. I queued one up and I was listening and nodding along as if it all made sense, tried to take some notes even. It was only at the 6 minute mark I realized it was actually just an Alt-Right douchebag trying to prove some global conspiracy theory about…lord, I don’t even fucking know, Aldhelm. It was so unhinged. And there I was, thinking I was doing my homework…” 

Aldhelm laughed and ran a hand through his hair. “Yea, there is a lot of that out there. But clearly, you’re not an idiot, because you figured it out, right? Better late than never.” 

“Definitely, definitely.” Erik nodded earnestly, then flipped through his copy of _Capital_ with a performative flair. “So where in here does Marx talk about the Illuminati?” 

Aldhelm snorted. 

“I’m joking,” Erik said, just in case. 

“I know,” Aldhelm said. 

They sat there for a moment, half-smiling at one another. 

“It’s wild,” Erik said. “How people do that.” 

“Hmm?” 

“Make up crazy shit like that, to explain why the world sucks or whatever. Like, aliens running the government, or secret societies of satanists and stuff.” Erik laughed again, but it came a little thinner. He rubbed a hand over his face. “I wonder if it’s easier for them to think those things….rather than admitting that the world is just shit ‘cause of it’s full of regular shitty people doing shitty things because they can.” 

“True,” Aldhelm said, and his gaze felt heavy on Erik’s skin. Erik remembered with a sick jolt the stupid stupid thing he had said to Aldhelm yesterday, about his Dad, and he felt stupid about it all over again. He felt stupid for what he’d said just now as well, and he wondered if Aldhelm thought this was a desperate attempt to make reference back to his family, or something like that. But Aldhelm’s eyes shifted off of him, and he looked thoughtfully at the corner of the table for a moment. 

“And usually they can,” he said finally, “because the systems in place allow them to.” 

Erik nodded. “Yea. I guess that’s it too, yea.” This felt less specifically about him and the stupid thing he’d said, so he was able to relax a bit. 

“I mean…” Aldhelm continued. “Why confront the injustices of capitalism and our mutual complicity in it when you can blame demons on Mars instead?” 

It was Erik’s turn to snort. “I mean, fuck, I’ve got enough problems without having to worry about _demons on Mars,_ too.”

“Seriously,” Aldhelm agreed, and they shared another long moment of quiet smiling. Erik was starting to wonder whether he looked a bit daft when he smiled. 

But then Aldhelm coughed lightly, adjusted his glasses, and slid his chair back a few inches. “And this is why critical theory is so necessary in the classroom,” he said. Erik got the sense that he was retreating back into a formal project mode. “Shall we divide the sources up evenly?”

“Sure, yea,” Erik said. He only felt a little anxious about his share of the workload, which was a small wonder. 

Aldhelm twisted the top of his mechanical pencil and set to work on his chart. 

**friday // feb 9th** ****

They met twice more that week, and it was a good thing they did. Erik came every time with a set of questions about the sources he was half-struggling through. He was self-conscious at first, especially when Aldhelm would respond with something like “ _You’ve read such and such?”_ — a presumptive sort of expression that was as flattering as it was embarrassing, at least when Erik had to correct Aldhelm’s estimation of him.

But Erik was getting better at saying “ _No, I haven’t_ ” and trusting that Aldhelm would explain patiently without making him feel like an idiot. Now Erik had a “To Read” list that spanned a whole page and a half in his notebook. He highly doubted he would get through it all (or even a fraction of it) before the project was completed, but he still kept recording Aldhelm’s recommendations, just in case. 

In Aelswith’s Friday afternoon lecture, they sat next to each other as if they were friends - a fact which was as simple as it was meaningful, at least to Erik. He watched Aldhelm, on and off throughout the class - watched as he nodded in thought or narrowed his eyes, as if in disagreement with something Aelswith said. He thought about the fact that he’d never really had a friend like Aldhelm before — not unless he counted Aethelflaed, who felt similar to Aldhelm in a way that Erik couldn’t even put words to. It was just a feeling. He thought the two of them would have gotten along. 

And this was another reason it was nice to have a friend in class, because it distracted Erik from the fact that it was Friday again, and Aethelflaed still hadn’t texted. He didn’t refresh his phone compulsively throughout the lecture - he was slightly worried about what Aldhelm would think if he caught him doing that. But he knew. It was set to vibrate in his pocket and had remained quiet and still against his thigh all afternoon. 

When the class was over, they milled together for a few minutes, packing their bags at the same slow, processional rate. Aldhelm raised a speculative eyebrow at Erik as he slung his messenger bag over his shoulder. 

“Big plans for your Friday night?” He asked. 

“Mm,” Erik replied, which felt like the only viable answer in the moment. “You?” 

“Depends.” Aldhelm shrugged. “Might hang out with a friend, if she’s around.” 

“Oh?” This was the first time Aldhelm had mentioned anything relating to a girlfriend — or something like one. But Erik understood. It’s not like he’d mentioned anything about Aethelflaed either. 

“Same, actually,” he said, feeling suddenly like he wanted to divulge at least a comparable level of personal detail. 

“Nice,” Aldhelm said and he looked…relieved? Was that it? As if he was grateful Erik did, in fact, have someone else to hang out with besides his Econ class project partner. Erik tried not to dwell too hard on this. 

He just hoped it was true. 

Luckily, Aethelflaed did text, a little after dinner. 

She always sent texts that were vaguely weird and sexual whenever she wanted to see him. “You wanna come? ;)” she’d say, or she’d send emojis of an eggplant and a peach and a little drop of rain, things like that. It was a joke, Erik knew, a game - acting like it was just a booty call whenever she texted him, and he understood the fun of it. But there was a hard edge to it, too, in that it _was_ a booty call, and pretending that it was just one silly aspect of their relationship didn’t change the fact that it _was_ their relationship, in its entirety. 

But it didn’t bother Erik, not this time, not in the slightest. When he saw the little text from “ **A** ” with a red-lipped mouth and a disembodied pair of eyes, he felt nothing but a bone-deep cascade of relief. He had already showered — just in case — and was at her room in twenty minutes, which was a level of urgency he would have been embarrassed about, if he could bring himself to care. 

It was a little awkward when she greeted him at the door. They both stood there for a moment, smiling at each other in a strained sort of way. At least, Erik felt like _his_ smile was strained, in that he was trying not to smile too hard, or to look too weird about the fact that he was finally allowed to see her. The last two weeks had felt very long for him.

“Hey,” she said, and then opened the door wide so he could move into the room beside her. Their bodies brushed for a moment in the threshold, and Erik thought she smelled nice — like roses, or something like roses. 

And then she closed the door, and they were alone in her small single, with the half-sloped ceiling almost too low for Erik to stand in one corner. 

“How are you doing?” She asked casually. The room was a little messier than usual, Erik noticed, with a pile of clothes heaped on the only chair, so he was left standing, swinging his arms out slightly into the space. 

“Good, yea, okay.” He nodded forcefully. “You?” 

“Alright,” she said. She had a shy smile on her face. Her hair was down and loose, her long bangs half-shading her eyes. She’d complained last time about needing to get them cut, he remembered, and it seemed she still hadn’t. Erik thought she looked very nice, but he always thought that. 

It was always like this, too, wasn’t it? It was always a little hard to talk - to find something to talk about, even though he knew there were lots of things they could say. They were good at talking when they wanted to be. But that part always came after — after the sex. 

Aethelflaed was closer now. She started unbuttoning his coat slowly and then slid it off his shoulders without speaking. She let it fall onto the clothes chair with little ceremony. 

“It’s nice to see you,” she said, nuzzling her face into his chest as she spoke, so that her words were muffled. 

“Yea,” Erik said, his throat a little dry. “I — same.” 

And then, it seemed, the greeting part of the ritual was over, and they were kissing. Aethelflaed’s mouth was urgent, her body moving against his with a trembling, grasping motion, like a leaf blown and rattling against the side of a building. Erik wanted to meet her in it, but he couldn’t control the tension in his body. It made his movements thick and slow, as if he was stuck in molasses. 

He pulled away, preemptively reaching to his back pocket to punctuate the moment. 

“I, um — I brought some condoms,” he said. “If we need them.” 

Aethelflaed’s head tilted, her eyes narrowing as she leaned back from him. 

“Wh— did?” She smoothed her lips over each other, as if that might zipper up her face. “Have you…been with someone else?” 

Erik snaked his hand back out of his pocket, but left his thumb there, hooked over the edge of the denim. “No…um…I just…I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure.” This was not a coherent sentence, he knew, but he hoped she understood. 

Aethelflaed’s eyebrows were even more furrowed than they’d been before. “I haven’t been with anyone else, Erik,” she said. “If that’s what you mean.” 

He tried very hard not to let out a breath of relief. This was not actually a thing he was entitled to feel anxious about, he knew, so he could not let her see just how anxious he’d been over it. 

“Okay,” he said lightly. “I was just checking.” 

And he waited for a moment as if she might say something else.

Is that why he had brought the condoms? Brought them and then brought them up? So he could force a moment like this, make her answer for it, for not texting him the week before? 

Maybe he had, he realized. 

But it didn’t work. Aethelflaed just said “We don’t need condoms,” and then kissed him again, as if nothing important had happened. And he supposed that it hadn’t, not really. 

She was pulling him back towards the bed now, and he enjoyed the feeling of it — of kissing her and feeling her desire, even if he did still feel half-stuck and reeling in the previous moment, his mind treading desperately like a drowning swimmer waiting for aid. 

Aethelflaed wanted urgency, he knew, so he tried to make himself urgent, but his hands moved in a strange, jerky on her body, like a skipping disc. She didn’t seem to notice. She pulled away and grabbed his hand, bringing it up to cover her mouth so that only her eyes were exposed, soft and wide, the green of them faded to a smokey gray in the room’s low light. 

“I’m yours, Erik,” she said into his hand as she looked at him. “I belong to you.” 

Erik’s chest tightened around the words. 

He knew she didn’t mean them, not in the way he wished she could have. It was just a kind of code - a secret password. It meant she wanted him to take control — that she would submit to anything he wanted to do to her. He could tie her up, or bend her over the bed and tighten his fist in her hair until she cried out, or have her get down on her knees right then and there and give him head until he came in her mouth. 

Erik had done all those things, and she had liked them, and he had liked her liking them. 

But now…now he mostly just wanted to cry with relief into Aethelflaed’s hair. 

That probably wasn’t what she had in mind, right?

Erik was very gentle - more gentle than Aethelflaed wanted, really. He undressed her slowly and then climbed on top of her, laying long, heavy kisses on her neck, pressing down on her with the warm weight of his body. And when he was inside of her, he moved like a soft tide, in and out without much force. 

It didn’t really feel like “fucking,” Aethelflaed thought. Maybe more like love-making. Were those actually two different things? She wasn’t sure. 

Whatever this was, she didn’t think she liked it. 

He felt distant, Aethelflaed thought, like his mind was somewhere else. It was strange — disconcerting even — because she was so used to sex being good with Erik. She didn’t think she’d ever not enjoyed having sex with him. 

He was thrusting into her now with an uneven sort of rhythm, and she felt her body go a little cold and stiff. She brought her hands up to his face, pushing him off of her with gentle force so that his motion slowed to a stop.

“Are you okay, Erik?” 

“Yea?” He said it like a question. 

“You seem….a little….” 

_Off_? That probably wasn’t a good thing to say, was it?

Erik blinked several times, very quickly. He rolled away, pulling out of her and settling next to her on the bed. “I’m sorry,” he said. He cast a hand over his eyes. “I know this isn’t…the kind of thing you want.” 

“It’s fine, it just…” Aethelflaed took in the sight of him, tense and pink against the sheets, his face still half-covered. “It just doesn’t seem like it’s what you want.” 

Erik’s hand dragged down his face, revealing his eyes which were wide with surprise.

“It is!” He said. “Of course it is, of course I want…to be with you.” He rolled close to her again, pulling her against his body, burying his face into her hair. 

“I just…” She could feel the motion of him swallowing against her ear. “I really missed you, is all. I’m sorry.”

Aethelflaed pulled away, so she could look into his eyes. “You’re sorry you missed me?” She intended it to be a joke, but her voice sounded a little tense. “Sounds like _I_ should be sorry, for being such a burden on your mind.”

“Aethelflaed.” Erik’s face was creased. “You know that’s not what I meant. I’m just…I’m sorry for being…like this,” he said, and he gestured at the general space around his head.

“For being like _what_ , Erik? I honestly do not know.”

“For being… _emotional_!” The word came frayed from his mouth. His hand was back over his face. “For being so…relieved to be spending time with you, I know it’s weird, I know—”

“Erik…” There was a strange, heavy feeling in Aethelflaed’s chest. She realized with a funny little pulse of pain that it was guilt. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry I didn’t text last weekend. I wanted to, you know. I just —”

_I just never know what you really want._

“What?” Erik asked, opening his fingers to look at her with one round, blue eye. 

Aethelflaed took a breath. “I just never know what you really want.” 

She was a little proud of herself, for actually saying it. 

“And I…”

She had been feeling guilty, hadn’t she? She’d been feeling guilty since last weekend, sitting on it and chewing over it and stewing in it and telling herself it was something else. Something like frustration, or righteousness — like it was _his_ fault he didn’t have control over anything, like it was okay that she wanted to flex the power she had over him sometimes, just because she could. 

But it felt different now. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t text you,” she said gently. “I missed you, too.” 

Erik let out a small, strangled breath. He didn’t speak, but his hand fell from his face, coming to rest between them, between their still naked bodies, stretched on the pale sheets, not quite touching. Aethelflaed picked it up and brought it to her mouth, and Erik let her take it with a staggered, jerky motion. Then he relaxed, and she kissed the tips of his fingers very lightly, one at a time. His eyes were softening, his face easing with something like pleasure, or relief. 

“I want you to miss me, you know,” she said, and then felt her throat tighten with panic. “I mean — I don’t mean like, I want you to suffer for me, but I…I care about —” She cut herself off, feeling like she was treading into dangerous waters. Erik’s nostrils flared slightly, as if he was trying hard to control his face, and still, he said nothing. 

She spoke again, as quietly as she could, like the words might hold less weight that way. “I think maybe I just wanted to know…if it would actually bother you —”

Erik kissed her on the mouth, soft and slow, swallowing her words as if he could take them inside himself without needing to hear them spoken. It was like that sometimes, kissing him — like speaking, without the sound. 

He was stroking her face with a gentle motion, and it was kind of like the sex had been before, slow and heavy and tender, but it was different too. They were together in it, and it didn’t feel strange to Aethelflaed’s body anymore. 

“Aethelflaed?” He spoke her name with the same level of softness he kissed her with. 

“Yea?” 

His hand was cradling her head now, drawing her close. Their legs opened and slid over each other, knees fitting between knees with comfortable familiarity. 

“I want —” He said, but then he stopped himself, as if he had said something heinous or forbidden and could not continue. But Aethelflaed was gasping, suddenly urgent again at the sound of his words. 

“Tell me what you want, Erik. Please.” She was filling to her edges with the need to know what he wanted. She brought her hand down between them, to where he was hard against her, curling his fingers around him until he moaned into her mouth. 

“I want —” he took a shaky breath, spacing the words out with long, deep kisses. “I want to be soft with you, Aethelflaed. I know — I know that’s not what you like — I just…I need you — I need you to be soft to me.” 

And he rolled onto his back, pulling her onto him. She thought he was like an animal, revealing his fragile self to the sky. 

“Please,” he said, a little desperately. 

Aethelflaed arranged herself on top of him, looking down at his need-filled face. His hair was getting a little long. Several strands of it were stuck to his forehead with damp. He was messy and tender, and something very wet and heavy swelled inside of her, like an overfilled water balloon about to pop. She brushed her hand lightly across his collarbone, stroked the hair of his beard with her thumb. His eyes closed in pleasure. 

“You _are_ still in command, you know,” she said, trying to jest, trying to be light. 

But Erik’s eyes opened, his eyes narrowing as if he was wincing in pain. 

“No,” he said. “I don’t want it to be a command.” 

It was intense - that next moment. It was hard to swallow. The gaze they shared felt thick and hot like a sharp touch. 

“Okay, yea,” she said. “Okay.”

Aethelflaed stroked his neck again, dragging her fingers lightly down his throat, tracing her thumbs across the skin of his chest. When she brought her mouth to him, dropping kisses down his sternum, he gasped and said “ _I like that_ , _”_ and his hands came around to hold her back with gentle pressure. 

She liked pleasuring him, of course. That’s what she thought she was doing, when she wanted to submit. But even when she did submit herself completely, it was still under her own terms. It was still under her own will, in an unexpected sort of way, and in that sense, he was still bent to her, even when she was on all fours beneath him. Her will was just strong like that, and his will….his will was something else she didn’t quite understand. 

But this now, this was different. This was just…giving. She could do that, she thought. 

And so she was soft. 

**wednesday // feb 14th** ****

The sun came thin through the thick haze of clouds, but even in its weakness, the light reflected off of everything — the ice, the snow — so that the air seemed bright with it. It was as bright as it was cold, Erik thought, so they walked swiftly down the bike path that followed the river’s edge. Their breath came out as little drifting clouds which they soon abandoned.

“Have you read much about Quantum Physics?” Aldhelm asked as they walked. 

Aldhelm had rearranged the shape of his questions a bit, Erik had noticed. He no longer assumed that Erik had read anything — which Erik was strangely grateful for. It was gentler, he felt, to ask it this way, and he sensed that Aldhelm had made the adjustment on purpose, to ease the flow of their conversations (which were getting increasingly off-topic as the week progressed) and to make Erik feel more comfortable. It made it a little easier to say, “ _No, I haven’t. Will you tell me about it?_ ” and Aldhelm always liked that, Erik knew. He liked being able to tell things.

This time, Erik said, “A little. It’s been a while, though. What got your mind on it?”

Aldhelm gave him a sidelong glance and nodded, and Erik thought he had performed his part of the ritual well. Now Aldhelm could tell him things. 

They’d been working in the library — preparing for the presentation they would give on Friday — when Aldhelm had stood up suddenly, stretching his long arms out in a wide, impatient gesture that Erik found a bit startling. It was as if he had transformed in the turn of a moment into a restless animal and was now unable to sit still for a single second longer. 

“What to go for a walk?” He’d said. “We can leave this stuff here. No one will touch it.” 

“Sure, yea,” Erik had said, too nonplussed to find any argument with the suggestion. 

And so now they were here, walking down the bike path as the frozen river slid silently by beside them beneath its crust of ice. The brisk motion of it all was nice, Erik thought. It distracted him from the fact that it was Valentine’s Day, which was a very stupid thing, he knew, but a stupid thing that still made him feel slightly sad for entirely stupid reasons. Even if he had been feeling much better since the time with Aethelflaed last weekend…it was still nice not to think about it.

“So, my Mom’s a physicist,” Aldhelm was saying, and Erik nodded. He remembered this. “Mostly theoretical stuff, dark matter, quantum entanglement. It’s really all just math. I don’t actually understand most of it.” 

Erik raised his eyebrows. “I find that hard to believe.” 

Aldhelm looked down, tucking a slightly pleased expression up into a dry smile. “I assure you, I’m not as smart as you think I am. You should meet my mother — or my sister — they’re the real geniuses.” 

Erik shrugged. “It must run in the family then.” He was inclined to keep complimenting Aldhelm. It was funny when he tried to hide his own smugness. “So…the quantum physics?” 

“Right. Well, there’s this guy in her lab — a PhD student. I was actually seeing him for a bit, last summer, and he was working on an experiment —”

Erik stalled his stride, his mind a few steps behind Aldhelm’s words, as usual. “Wait—” Erik put out a hand, and Aldhelm slowed to a stop as well. “You were seeing a guy? Like… _seeing_ him, like —”

“Yes.” Aldhelm’s face had gone hard and carefully shuttered. “I was… _seeing_ him.” 

Erik felt suddenly ashamed and awkward. Why had he done that — zoomed in on that moment, stopped the whole conversation for it? As if Aldhelm needed to explain himself, as if he had something to answer to. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” Aldhelm’s mouth was flat, his eyebrows raised, but it wasn’t dry or humorous. It was a distanced expression, like he was looking down at Erik from a high place, far away. “I just didn’t realize, I mean — it’s fine, I’m cool with it —”

“Oh.” Aldhelm folded his arms across his chest. “What a relief.” His tone was very clipped and cold. “I’m so grateful to have your blessing, Erik.” 

“I’m sorry.” Erik closed his eyes for a long moment. “I’m really fucking this up, aren’t I?” 

“Uh…yea. A bit.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said, feeling stupid even in the repetition. “I wish I could rewind it — I can’t, I know. I just…wish I could.” They stood there for a moment in stiff silence. “Will you tell me about the experiment? I want to know.” 

Aldhelm swallowed, his jaw moving a bit tensely on his face. Then he nodded, a short, shallow gesture, and kept walking, letting his arms fall back to his sides. Erik followed. 

“So.” Aldhelm let out a breath, and Erik felt the moment retreating, left behind them on the patch of path where they’d been stopped, like a cloud of breath. He watched Aldhelm’s eyes narrow, gazing off into the distance in that way they did when he was reading something out of his own memory. “Do you know about the classic photon experiment? This one was a bit of a re-interpretation of that one.” 

“It sounds familiar. Remind me?” 

And Aldhelm went on to explain about particles and waves, and the strange mystery that happened when someone watched them, as if one little thing could change the whole world, as if matter itself was dictated by the mind, or by the thing behind the mind, and all it took was a change of perspective to rewrite the nature of reality. 

And Erik got the feeling that was important. 

Erik thought about it, later that night. He thought about it a lot and judged himself for thinking on it. He couldn’t help it, though. It was like a little beacon blinking in his brain. _Aldhelm is gay. Aldhelm is gay. Aldhelm is gay_. He felt like he had to sift through all his thoughts and memories of Aldhelm, like files in a cabinet, applying this new stamp to each of them. He imagined this would help him understand the person Aldhelm _actually_ was, now that he had this important information. But after doing this for a while (meeting Aldhelm: _Aldhelm was gay then_ ; working on the project: _Aldhelm was gay that whole time, too;_ etc.) he realized that of course Aldhelm was the same person he had always been, and then he felt stupid and guilty for ever thinking he wasn’t. 

After too long of this, Erik had another breakthrough. Maybe Aldhelm wasn’t gay but bi, he thought. Hadn't he mentioned something about a girl the other day? Just this realization itself was like discovering an uncharted territory, or finding a hidden chamber in his childhood home. Growing up, sexuality had been presented to Erik in a very simple scheme: they were gay people, who were wrong, and there were straight people, who were right. Erik knew now, of course, that this was a flawed idea, and of course, he knew that bisexual people existed, too - bisexual men, even, out in the world, living their lives. But he had never known one, he had never met one. Or at least, if he had, they had not presented themselves to him in that way. 

But now, the idea that he might know a bisexual man — be friends with one even — with someone who had somehow ascended the rigid rules that Erik had been given, ascended them so much that he could say, in casual conversation, _I was seeing a guy…_ This thought was wild to Erik. It was almost thrilling to realize such a person could exist. 

He realized this was weird — thinking about this. He thought if someone could read his mind - someone worldly like Aldhelm or Aethelflaed - they would think he was foolish, or even repulsive, for focusing so much on this, on who someone else had sex with. It didn’t matter, he knew. But he was glad no one could read his mind.

But then the thought came like a strike of a clapper within a bell — the thought that maybe it was pretty gay of _him_ , to be thinking so much about Aldhelm’s sex life, and this idea pushed into him with such intensity that he experienced it as a physical sensation. It was as if he was itchy and prickled all over, his chest suddenly full of rocks. He tossed and turned restlessly in his bed, in the dark, like he could outrun the thought by moving constantly, shifting in his own skin. Finally, his mind dropped the subject entirely, as if for its own preservation, and he fell asleep. 

Erik woke with a new sense of heavy clarity, like the feeling of regret after a bad binge. He thought of Aldhelm, and how he had tried to share something honest and personal — something vulnerable, perhaps — with Erik. And Erik had… made a mess of it, he knew that much. And now he feared that Aldhelm wouldn’t want to talk to him anymore, wouldn’t trust him, wouldn’t want to share anything — personal or otherwise. 

And that was probably the hardest thought of all. 


	3. warm hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik and Aldhelm celebrate a successfully failed presentation. Erik finds himself dealing with some unexpected feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CWs: Some sexual language, intense bisexual angst 
> 
> (i am sorry about the angst. i am hoping that processing this so thoroughly in these chapters will make for a, uh, final climax that feels realistic, tender, and blessedly free of bisexual angst)

**friday // feb 16th**

Erik arrived at Aelswith’s Friday class tense with nervousness.

It wasn’t because of the presentation — or rather, it was, but only a little. He was mostly just anxious about seeing Aldhelm again, wondering if there would be any awkwardness lingering from Wednesday. He was also vaguely worried that his own anxiousness would just serve to make it even more awkward, as if everything he’d been thinking about for the last two days would be visible on his face. He doubled down on his gratitude at the fact that Aldhelm could not (presumably) read his mind. 

But Aldhelm greeted him with nonchalance, as Erik slid into a desk beside him. His head was cocked slightly, one eyebrow raised. 

“You feel prepared?” He asked. 

“Uh…yea. I think so.” Erik said, and then added, a moment too late: “You?” He knew Aldhelm was prepared. But it felt polite to reciprocate the question. 

“As much as I’m likely to be.” 

They sat in a quiet that wasn’t quite awkward, but might have been. Erik wasn’t sure. He scrambled for something to say, trying to fill it. 

“Um….how —”

But then Aelswith called the class to order and the moment passed. 

They presented third. The first two presentation were simple, straightforward, a bit boring, and they each elicited sharp, satisfied nods from Aelswith. Erik was beginning to feel more anxious as they approached the front of the class together, but Aldhelm started them off with an introduction to the concept, moving his hands with confident, assured gestures as he explained the fundamentals of Marxist theory. 

Erik watched as Aelswith’s face became more and more drawn, and as she tried several times to open her mouth and speak over him. But Aldhelm had a way of it — as if he simply didn’t notice that she was trying to interrupt — and he leveled his voice with a clear cadence, slow but unstopping, so there was no gap into which she could insert her critique. 

It was…hilarious, Erik thought. But he stopped himself from laughing. 

He felt buoyed by Aldhelm’s confidence, rather than intimidated by it, and when it was his turn to present his sources, he found himself affecting the same cadence. He enjoyed a flush of satisfaction, when Aldhelm gave a small, approving nod halfway through his monologue. The feeling of it pushed him through to the end. 

Which was good, because Aelswith’s reaction was increasingly…grim. 

“Thank you,” she said with unmasked acid in her tone. “For that. I honestly do not even know where to begin with my feedback.” 

Erik swallowed and looked sidelong at Aldhelm. He was gazing at Aelswith with a polite look of defiance. 

“For one,” Aelswith continued, “I could critique the very presence of this presentation in this class, which is explicitly _about_ the value that capitalism creates for the world and the ways in which it does that — a fact which Marx and yourselves all seem to have overlooked in your zealotry for… _discourse —“_

“But —” Erik interrupted. He realized Aldhelm had also opened his mouth to speak, but then he made a gesture in Erik’s direction as if to say, “ _you go_.” 

Erik took a breath. “I think that’s a misunderstanding of the Marxist dialectic. With all respect, Professor,” he added, because Aelswith’s eyes were growing very very round. “He was not arguing that capitalism should never have existed — or that… _feudalism_ was better by any means. His critique was rather that it’s not…the — the _best_ of all possible systems, and that our economic and social contract should continue to evolve with….with the changing needs of our world. And I think, because, it _is_ the entire system that we’re studying here…that’s _why_ it’s good to step back —”

“Be — that — as it may.” Aelswith’s voice did not court any remaining protest. “I’m afraid this is not a political philosophy class, or a sociology class, or any of the other types of disciplines where this kind of presentation would be acceptable. I understand the work that went into this, boys — I truly do. But I’m afraid I cannot give it a passing grade. Thank you.” 

This last bit was spoken with the force of a closing door. Erik and Aldhelm shared one more quiet look, and then took their seats. 

“I’m sorry we failed,” Erik said, as they shuffled out of class together 45 minutes later. 

“Why are you sorry? It was my idea.” Aldhelm was cleaning his glasses with the corner of his shirt, and Erik realized he’d never seen him without them. He looked…different. But then he put them back on, and his eyes turned back to Erik, just a little bit bigger through the lenses. 

“Yea,” Erik said. “But…maybe if I’d argued better at the end there — you let me speak, and I—”

“Erik, Aelswith was going to fail us no matter what. You must know that.” 

Erik let out a sigh. “I still feel bad.”

Aldhelm gave him a small, encouraging smile. “I don’t think it was a complete failure. I mean, we did accomplish what we set out to do, right? Demonstrate how the theory can be used? And there _were_ a whole bunch of other people listening besides Aelswith. I think I saw Sihtric taking down some notes.” 

“Ah, well…that’s something. You’re not worried about your grade?” 

Aldhelm shrugged. “I’ll do extra credit. It’s you who…” 

“Should be worried?” Erik asked, with a bit of wryness to stave off his embarrassment. 

They had come to a stop outside the building, on the fancy terraced patio where they’d first organized the assignment. Aldhelm looked at Erik with a note of concern. 

“I didn’t mean it like that, Erik,” he said. I’m sorry. I just —- I feel bad. I should feel bad. This is my fault.” 

Erik waved a hand, self-conscious at Aldhelm’s guilty scrutiny on him. “I’ll do extra credit too, then. It’s fine. I’m not worried about it. I had fun,” he added, and then continued talking with a slight “train-off-the-rails” feeling behind the words. “I think we should celebrate, or commiserate, or…I don’t know. _I_ think we did a good job. That’s what matters, right?”

Aldhelm seemed a bit bemused, but he nodded with a smile. “Sure, yea. What did you have in mind?” 

“Oh, um…” Erik did not actually have anything in mind. 

“We could go for another walk, perhaps?” Aldhelm suggested helpfully. “Maybe with something to drink this time. To toast our failure?” 

Erik nodded, flush with gratitude at Aldhelm’s offer, and at the ease between them, which seemed unsullied by his weirdness before. The relief of it all was like a bit of a drink itself, making him feel warm and easy. “That sounds nice.” 

“I should grab something to eat,” Aldhelm explained, and Erik remembered that regularly scheduled meals were something that normal people did. “But…want to meet after dinner, at the bike path?” 

“Yea,” said Erik. “Sounds good.” 

And he thought he might actually eat dinner tonight, too. Maybe Aldhelm’s good influence was catching.

The walk down the bike path felt different that evening. It was somehow warmer than it had been the other day, even though the sun had already crawled below the horizon. 

But it was still cold.

Erik stopped into the deli-mart on their way off campus and came out looking pleased with himself, a narrow brown-bagged parcel tucked beneath his arm. He’d seemed pleased with himself ever since the presentation, Aldhelm noted, which was somewhat surprising, given the fact that they’d undoubtedly failed.

But he wouldn’t have known that looking at Erik. He walked with a spring in his step, or was it more like a swagger? Aldhelm wasn’t sure. He determined that he would categorize it somewhere between a spring and a swagger, if he was really forced to decide. 

Aldhelm waited on the corner, under the street’s single lamp post (a simple precaution, really), and watched Erik skim across the road towards him, light on his feet. 

He smiled brightly as he approached. 

“Got some wine,” he said, shrugging so the parcel jiggled slightly under his armpit. 

“Nice. Thank you.”

Erik shook his head, his eyes creasing. “Don’t mention it,” he said. And Aldhelm decided not to ask how he’d bought the wine. 

They walked a good distance up the path, farther than they’d gone the other day. They kept pace with each other as they walked, Erik’s long strides almost a mirror of Aldhelm’s own. Aldhelm _was_ a bit taller, he noted, but Erik made up for it, by means of the springiness. They didn’t speak much on the walk. There was instead a quiet sense of shared purpose, some unspoken intention that Aldhelm was not sure he even understood. 

Perhaps Erik knew what they were doing. But Aldhelm kind of doubted it. 

He remembered the weird moment before — they’d been walking in almost the exact same place they were at that very moment. He’d mentioned to Erik about Damian, and for a moment, he’d thought that Erik might go cold, or act hateful…or simply stupid. And Erik had been a bit foolish, that was true. But he was just himself now, Aldhelm thought. They were both themselves, together. 

After a few minutes, they came to a covered bench that sat along the path, a little vista seat for viewing the river and the rolling hills that arched up behind it. Across the frozen water, houses were turning on their lights, so that long strands of little winking windows stretched and curled towards the dark horizon.

“This is nice,” Erik said. He was already sitting down, unfurling the brown paper bag to reveal a bottle of dark red wine. “I don’t know much about wine,” he added. “I just got the bottle with the coolest looking label.” 

“Hmm.” Aldhelm hoped this sounded more encouraging than disparaging. 

But Erik did not appear to be discouraged. He was unscrewing the cap (no cork-screw required, thankfully) and raising it up in toast.

“Here’s to, uh, a successfully-failed presentation and a top-tier Aelswith roast. True accomplishments, I think. But the real treasure was the friends we made along the way.” 

Aldhelm couldn’t help but laugh. Erik’s good mood was contagious. 

“I mean…” Erik’s face was turning a little pink. “Not to assume anything…”

“What, that we’re friends?” Aldhelm sat down on the bench next to him, stretching out his legs across the frozen scrap of path in front of him. “I think it’s an accurate descriptor at this point.”

Erik smiled. He was very good at smiling, wasn’t he? “I’ll drink to that.” He took a swig from the bottle. “Not bad,” he said, handing it to Aldhelm. 

Aldhelm took a sip, keeping his face very controlled. “It’s good,” he said, swallowing.

It was….fine. Aldhelm took another drink from the bottle and smiled, handing it back to Erik. 

“It’s bad, isn’t it?”

“What?” Aldhelm asked, as innocently as he could. 

“The wine, it’s bad. I can tell from your face.” 

“No…it’s good!” 

Erik was looking at him with a suspicious expression. 

“It’s fine,” Aldhelm amended. “Really. I’m not an expert on wine by any means. But I don’t think you can really go by the labels.” 

“Damn.” Erik looked genuinely disappointed. 

“ _It’s fine_ , Erik! It’s wine. It does the job. It warms the blood. Who do you think I am, some sort of fancy man who only drinks claret and port out of my crystal liquor decanter?”

“Well…” Erik made a speculative expression, as if he had in fact imagined Aldhelm drinking alcohol out of a crystal decanter. “You _did_ know the wine was bad. I can’t tell the difference, honestly.” 

Aldhelm wondered again about Erik’s family. He’d spent a lot of time wondering about Erik’s family, even though he knew it wasn’t any of his business. He was simply curious, he told himself. It was an enigma. Erik wore nice enough clothes, he seemed to have spending money on hand, he was _here,_ wasn’t he, at Wessex College? $50,000 a year plus change, wasn’t it?And even though Aldhelm knew he was smarter than he looked, Erik did not strike him as the kind of person to win an extensive merit-based scholarship. He had to come from some privilege, Aldhelm reasoned.

But then there was always that strange dynamic between them, wasn’t there? As if Erik saw Aldhelm as his better. And the thing Erik had said, about his Dad… 

Erik took a long draught from the bottle and handed it back to Aldhelm, smiling despite his seeming embarrassment about the wine. He was in good spirits, Aldhelm thought. He was good at laughing at himself - a fact which never failed to surprise Aldhelm, not because he thought Erik self-important — (although he was, Aldhelm suspected, often self-conscious). But rather, it was because of his seeming willingness to set aside his self-consciousness for the sake of someone else’s pleasure. 

It was impressive, Aldhelm thought. He would have told Erik as much, but he thought that might actually just ruin the effect of it all. 

They drank for a while, until the bottle was half gone, and then two-thirds. The chill was a hungry guest, driving under the edge of Aldhelm’s coat, creeping up his legs like a pair of cold hands. But the wine helped, kindling a small furnace of warmth inside of him, and the weak sour taste of it became more and more palatable the more that he drank. It started to haze the edges of his mind so his vision grew soft and tender on the world, like an artist’s brush swirling around small, unexpected moments: Erik’s hair, curling out from under the edge of his dark beanie; his hands, tapping against his legs with that nervous, compulsive tic he sometimes had; his mouth, wide and expressive as he spoke, and the flash of even, white teethbehind every smile or self-effecting wince —

Aldhelm looked away, settling his gaze on the river. 

“What are you thinking about?” Erik asked. Aldhelm realized that he’d been silent - perhaps for too long — failing to respond to something Erik had said. 

“Um…I was just…thinking about being a kid.” Aldhelm pulled his eyes away from the frozen river to look back at Erik. He grasped a memory out from the surface of his mind, finding himself in need of something to say. “And skating with my siblings on a frozen river like this near our house. Random, I know. The memory just…came.” 

“Here I was hoping you were gonna tell me something fascinating about river hydrology or the physics of ice or something.” 

Aldhelm snorted. “I don’t know anything about river hydrology, Erik. You’re the one who takes Environmental Science classes.”

Erik shrugged. “Yea, but you know something about everything.”

“Erik….” Aldhelm felt a little rush of heat in his throat that he had to swallow. Perhaps it was just the wine. “Your opinion of me…it is flattering, but I fear it is…overblown. I’m not…” 

“What? Actually smart?” 

Aldhelm made a small, frustrated noise, feeling oddly backed into a corner, like Erik was trying to force him to declare his own cleverness. 

“It’s just that…half of being smart is simply knowing how to seem like you’re smart. At least in my experience.”

“So…you haven’t actually read _Capital_ , and you don’t discuss the intricacies of quantum physics experiments with your boyfriends?” Erik said this last part with intense innocence, as if trying hard to prove how nonchalant he could be about the whole thing. Aldhelm almost wanted to roll his eyes but found himself suppressing a smile instead. 

“No, I, uh…I have done those things.” 

“Hmm.” Erik leaned back, looking almost smug. “I’ll continue to draw my own conclusions then.” 

This was what Erik did, Aldhelm knew. He flattered. He made others feel special, because he wanted to, because it pleased him. So Aldhelm let it drop. It seemed like the most reasonable thing to do — to let Erik have his small pleasure. Or perhaps it was just the easiest. 

“It sounds nice,” Erik was saying. “The stuff with your family. Skating and all. They sound…nice.” 

“They are,” Aldhelm mused, a warm glow in his chest at the thought of them. But then something like ice edged in, something sharp and cold and dread-like. He turned to Erik, looking into his wide, pale face, as if he might be able to read something in the depths of it if he just tried hard enough. But Erik just looked at him guilelessly.

“You’re okay, right, Erik?” 

“What?” Erik’s forehead creased. 

“I mean like, with your family. You have people who…look out for you? Who care about you?” 

Erik was looking down, fiddling very intently with the zipper of his coat. 

“Yea,” he said, still not meeting Aldhelm’s eye. “There’s someone. I have…someone. I’m okay.” 

Aldhelm nodded, but the motion felt a bit stiff. There was that friend Erik had mentioned last week, wasn’t there? And Aldhelm had noticed that he checked his phone a lot in class, which suggested some kind of relationship. 

“I mean…” Aldhelm swallowed again — that hot wine feeling in his throat. “I care about you — naturally. I care that you’re…okay, I mean.” 

Erik’s eyes widened slightly. Aldhelm rubbed a hand over his own face, wincing. 

“I’m not making much sense, am I?” He said. “The wine must be stronger than I thought. It’s muddling my words.” 

Erik laughed, a small, pleased sound that surprised Aldhelm. He had thought the moment rather taut until then. 

“I knew I got the good shit,” Erik said, and Aldhelm laughed too. 

“I stand thoroughly corrected. Will you accept my apology in writing, or…?” 

Erik smiled. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to make it up to me.”

Aldhelm swallowed. He could not think of anything particularly well-suited to say in response to this. Instead, he put his hands deep into his pockets and looked out again at the frozen river. 

“You getting cold?” Erik asked, after a long turn of silence. 

“A little. Just my hands, mostly. But my hands are always cold.” He took his hands out of his pockets again and breathed on them, as if Erik might need a demonstration. It didn’t really help. 

“Oh?” Erik opened his own palms and looked down at them seriously. “I don’t have that problem,” he said. 

“Your hands getting cold?” 

“No. My hands are always very warm.” Erik turned to him with a bright, easy smile, as if he might have been making a joke. “It’s weird, honestly, it’s been like that since I was a kid. I’ve never had to wear gloves or anything.”

“Are you…pulling my leg right now?” Aldhelm thought the wine must have really gotten to him. He honestly could not tell if Erik was joking or not. 

“No! No, I swear! Here, look —” and Erik took one of Aldhelm’s hands, pressing it between his own, creating a sandwich of hands that hovered in the space between their bodies. Erik held it there for a long moment, his fingers latticing slightly between Aldhelm’s own, his thumbs curling over themselves to tuck around Aldhelm’s palm. 

They were very warm. 

“See?” Erik said. 

He had a questioning, expectant look in his eyes. He did the whole thing so casually —he continued doing it, so casually — that Aldhelm was certain he did not see the gesture as intimate in any way. 

It was probably better that he didn’t, Aldhelm reasoned. 

“You’re right,” Aldhelm said. “They are warm.” He twitched his hand a little, and Erik’s hands fell away, allowing him to slide his own back into his pocket. He clenched it into a tight fist in there, where it couldn’t be seen. 

“It must be my superpower,” Erik said. He didn’t put his hands in his pockets. He just left them out in his lap, as if the cold couldn’t touch them. 

“Hmm,” Aldhelm said, still very conscious of his hand in his pocket. 

“Do you have anything like that? Like a superpower? But like, a…modest-power… a stupid-power? Is there a word for that?” 

Aldhelm laughed in a distracted sort of way. “I don’t know. I don’t know if there’s a word. Ummm…” He thought for a moment. He was definitely not thinking about his hand, still warm in his pocket. “I’m good at remembering things…things that I’ve read or I’ve seen. Kind of like a photographic memory, I guess.” 

“Damn. That’s…that’s _way_ cooler than having warm hands.” 

“Erik.” Aldhelm felt a strange, unexpected rush into his head. It was uncomfortable, almost out of control. Was this all just the wine? It must be, right? 

“I’m not _cooler_ than you, Erik. Can you stop with all that already? It’s making me feel weird. You know, you’re good at things other than _having warm hands_ , for fuck’s sake.” 

There was a moment of stiff silence. “Yea. Okay, yea.” Erik said finally, in a quiet voice. And then he did put his hands into his pockets, as if trying to erase the last few moments from the air. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Aldhelm said, feeling suddenly guilty and awkward. But he wasn’t sure what else was appropriate to say - _you are very skillful at smiling_?; _you have a tendency to make me feel special about myself without even trying?; I find myself often in a good mood when I’m around you_? These things did not feel like acceptable things to say, so he didn’t say anything. 

They sat quietly together for a while. 

“Do you want to head back?” Erik asked. “If you’re feeling cold? The wine is almost gone anyway.” 

“Yea, alright.” Aldhelm said. He stood, feeling stiff — almost a bit mechanical — like he needed to directly communicate the process of normal motion to each of his limbs. This was because of the cold, he was certain.

Erik stood up as well, and held the wine bottle out to Aldhelm, tilting it a bit to show him that a few inches of wine still lay in the bottom. “You want any more?” He asked. He wore a small smile, less easy and expressive than it had been before Aldhelm had snapped at him. But it felt like an olive branch. 

“It’s all you,” Aldhelm said, offering a smile in return. He had clearly drunk too much already. 

Erik nodded and drained the rest with a few gulps. Then he tucked the base of the empty bottle into his pocket, letting his hands swing free at his sides. 

His very warm hands. 

It started snowing as they walked back - tiny little dense flakes that looked like they’d been chiseled off a block of ice. The sight of them made Erik’s eyes blur, as if he couldn’t quite focus on everything at once. He knew he was pretty tipsy, too — his hands and feet felt even warmer than usual, and it was hard not to smile about everything. 

There had been that moment — when Aldhelm had gotten frustrated with him and he’d felt ashamed for a second. But then Aldhelm had said “ _you’re good at things other than having warm hands_ ,” and this felt like something that was worth smiling about. 

Aldhelm did seem to be feeling cold. He walked in a tense sort of way, his hands deep in his pockets, his shoulders hunched forward and his eyes fixed on the ground. Erik hoped he was just cold, and not actually desperate to get to some threshold where he could take his leave of Erik without looking too rude. Erik didn’t think he’d been _that_ annoying, but it was hard to know for sure. 

They crossed back onto campus and heard the distant sounds of boisterous shouting and laughter — students moving like ships through the night to find port at whatever party they were destined for. 

“Plans for the rest of the evening?” Aldhelm asked casually, as if he was thinking of the same thing. 

“Uhh…same as usual. I might see my, uh…friend later.” Erik didn’t think Aethelflaed had texted yet, but he actually hadn’t checked in a while. He thought it might be rude to do so right at that moment.

“Right.” Aldhelm nodded, looking off into the distance. 

“You?” 

“No plans, actually.” Aldhelm had come to stop, and Erik followed suit. They stood at the fork in the path that peeled off towards the back of the quad. “My room’s in Mercia,” he said, nodding to the left. “Probably a bit out of your way.”

“Oh, uh…yea.” Erik felt a weird, stuck impulse in his throat. He wasn’t sure if Aldhelm was trying to lose him, or whether he was inviting him to walk back with him - to keep hanging out. “I’ve, uh…I’ve never been to Mercia. Is it nice out there?”

Aldhelm glanced upwards, raising his eyebrows in thought. “It’s alright, yea. I’ve got a huge single all to myself. A benefit of living on the farthest, most neglected corner of campus.” 

“Right, yea.” 

Erik thought about the time at Aylesbury House, with Aethelflaed, when he’d listened to his instincts about what she wanted and he’d been right. But then his mind turned on itself for even comparing the two situations. That had been about sex, and this was just about…friendship. They were not the same. But in some ways, this felt even more vulnerable to Erik, in the moment. 

“Well.” Aldhelm shrugged. “Have a good rest of your night? Take care, it’s really coming down.” 

The snow was falling heavier now, almost like hail. Erik could hear each chip of it hit the fabric of his jacket. Aldhelm took his hand out of his pocket, and Erik watched the pale shape of it move through the air like a blur against the snow. Aldhelm brought it to Erik’s shoulder, light as a bird, and brushed some of the hail that was gathering there against his collar. 

And that’s how it came to him — the thought — like a bird landing on his shoulder. The image was gentle at first, little more than a suggestion, a whisper. But then it grew intense, like a hand clamping down on him, tighter and tighter. And that’s what it was - the image - it was Aldhelm’s hand, moving on his body, from his shoulder to his chest, then down to his waist. And then it was the thought of Aldhelm’s hand _around_ him, tight against him, stroking back and forth, slow and then faster, and then his own hands on Aldhelm, pulling him closer, digging into his skin — 

“Erik?”

Erik’s whole body went tense, like a shudder. He stumbled backwards, and Aldhelm’s hand fell off his shoulder, retreating back into his pocket with a pale flash. 

“Are you…okay?” Aldhelm asked. Erik was still rigid like stone — or like brittle steel. He thought if someone were to push him over, he would shatter on the ground like glass. 

“Yea.” His face felt very hot. He brought both hands up and rubbed it several times, hard and fast. 

“I’m fine,” Erik said. He took another few steps back. 

Aldhelm’s face was open and concerned, but as Erik watched, it shuttered, becoming drawn and stiff, like a closed door. 

“I’m gonna go, I — um…” Erik stuttered. “I — see ya.” 

He didn’t even wait for a response. He just turned and walked as fast as he could back to his dorm. 

When Erik got to his room, he closed the door and pressed his head against it, standing there in the dark for several minutes, struggling to let his breath calm in his chest. He had tried not to think about it on the walk back, but now he thought about it in a backwards sort of way, trying to approach it like it was a dangerous animal, or something hot and sharp he didn’t want to touch. Maybe he wanted to prove it wasn’t actually hot and sharp. 

But it was. 

The image came back with a strong sear across his skin — Aldhelm’s hands touching him, undressing him, rising him up — and the thought twisted inside of him, like the lurch of a fall in his stomach. He staggered over to his bed and lay there face down for a long time, trying not to think again. It was futile. 

It was because Aldhelm was gay — or bi — or into men in some way, Erik reasoned. He was reading too much into things. He was imagining Aldhelm coming onto him, making a move, and that’s why the image had come — to imagine what that would be like, if that was what was happening. 

But that’s not what was happening, Erik knew. Aldhelm was just being friendly. Aldhelm was just his friend. Brushing hail off his shoulder wasn’t _making a move_ , just like Erik warming Aldhelm’s hand on the bench hadn’t been _making a move_ , had it? 

_Oh god_. 

_Had it???_

Erik rolled over onto his back, kicking off his boots and pulling off his coat with a desperate, frantic motion, as if trying un-bury himself from an avalanche of sand. 

He was trying, he realized, to make a catalogue of every male friend he’d ever had, and he had had mostly male friends, hadn’t he? Every kid he’d played with as a child, every guy he’d hung out with in high school, every so-called “best friend” from over the years, most of whom had long since shuffled out of his life. He hadn’t had many real friendships, he realized. Sigefrid had dominated them all, acting like Erik belonged primarily to him but could be lent out on occasion, if he was feeling generous.

But there had been moments of…of what? Intimacy? Vulnerability? Had there? Had it ever felt like it did with Aldhelm tonight? Had Erik ever thought about another guy touching him, kissing him, making him come?

He didn’t even know anymore. He felt himself as an alien, a stranger he now had to live with inside his own body. It was…lonely. 

Erik turned again. His phone was hard against his thigh in the pocket of his jeans, and he dug it out with numb hands. There was a text from Aethelflaed from over an hour ago: a winky face and three question marks. 

Erik felt nothing but dread at the sight of it. It was the thing he most wanted and also the thing he least wanted, in that moment. How he could let her see him in this state? How could he bear to bring this mess to her door? Even though she had been kind and soft and gentle with him the weekend before, even though he had felt safe with her, felt like they had shifted into some deeper understanding, some deeper trust of each other’s affection…

But that’s exactly why he couldn’t go now, wasn’t it? He couldn’t ruin that, not so soon. 

His fingers felt numb, almost shaky, as he typed out the words. 

_I can’t tonight_ , he wrote. _I’m sorry_. _Tomorrow?_

It took a long time for her to respond. Maybe it was just a few minutes, but it might have been an hour as far as Erik knew. 

_Sure_ , she said.

And Erik was alone with himself. 

The night passed in a weird way. 

After laying half-paralyzed in his bed for what felt like hours, Erik pulled out his laptop with a distant, dissonant feeling in his hands. In an Incognito window, he googled things like “being bisexual” and “being a bisexual man” and “realizing you might be into guys.” He read some articles that were very depressing, and some forums that were mildly encouraging. 

Erik clicked through it all with a very light touch on the keypad, immediately letting his hand retreat, as if there was an invisible wall between him and the laptop and he might pretend it was someone else directing the mouse and not him. 

He didn’t know why he did that. He just did.

After a while of this, he shut his laptop and stared at the ceiling for a long time. He had never changed out of his clothes for bed, and it was still very dark in his room. 

Then he opened his laptop back up, started a new Incognito window, and put in another search. After scrolling past approximately three videos, he was overcome with a spasm of fear so intense that he froze. It was the thought of what his father would say, of what Sigefrid would say, of what they would _do_ , if they could see him now, looking up gay porn. He knew — intellectually — that his father did not have access to his Incognito Google searches. But the knowledge of that did not help in the moment. 

Erik shut it all down and did not open the laptop again. 

He must have fallen asleep at some point — still in his thermal shirt and his jeans, his wool socks tight on his too-hot feet. He woke up sometime in the 3:00 hour feeling thirsty, with his mind a little shallow and thin, like it was worn out of thought. There was an ache in his groin, and he realized he was hard. Maybe he’d just woken from a tender dream he could not remember. 

He took off his jeans — the demin was tight and painful in the creases of his knees, the belt digging into his hips. He brought his hand to himself without thinking much about the motion. The feeling was a relief — it was just a feeling. It didn’t mean anything. It was just pleasure. 

His mind was too tired to resist the imagining anymore, so he let it overcome him. 

He was sitting with Aldhelm on the bench again, and he had taken Aldhelm’s hand between his own. Aldhelm looked at him and said, “ _That feels nice_. _It’s so nice to be touched by you, Erik_.” And Erik said, “ _I want to be touched by you, too_.” And Aldhelm did. He unbuckled Erik’s jeans, slowly, and they were close, sitting close on the bench, and they smiled, with the haze of the wine, and then they kissed, and Aldhelm’s hands were very gentle on him, and he was touching him, below the fabric of his boxers, and Erik was breathing heavy at the feeling, and the thought of it, the two of them, out there in the open, touching each other like it didn’t matter, like they were free to do whatever they wanted, and Aldhelm’s hands _were_ cold, but Erik didn’t mind, they were getting warmer, and he was warm with it, and he didn’t care about any of it anymore, just the pleasure…

He thought about Aldhelm’s hands until he came. 

And then he slept. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry no Aethelflaed this chapter - she has a lot to do next time, don't worry!!


	4. a friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aldhelm comes to Aethelflaed in a moment of heartache. Erik develops a worrying “superpower.” All three find themselves in a vulnerable position.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while between updates. I took a writing hiatus (and a general fandom hiatus) but I am back at it now and I hope to get the last chapter out soon! 
> 
> I love this chapter, even though (or perhaps because) it is wild and crazy in more ways than one. The stupidity levels are through the roof here. I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> CWs: Internalized Biphobia, Graphic Sex, Sub/Dom Kink, Rough Sex, Mentions of Homophobic Abuse

**saturday // feb 17th** ****

The text was a bit startling, Aethelflaed had to admit. Perhaps even more startling than Erik’s text the night before - which had left her anxious and reeling for a few hours before she decided to stop overthinking it and go to sleep.

But _this_ , this was something else.

Aldhelm never texted out of the blue, not at 9am on a Saturday morning.

 _Are you awake?_ He wrote. Another text immediately followed it.

_Would you want to get some brunch together?_

Then: _It’s okay if you’re not awake_.

Then: _Just let me know_.

It wasn’t the tone of the messages that was alarming, but the speed of them, the intensity of their springing into her inbox one after the other, as if Aldhelm had just started texting her without thinking about it, and then had to overwrite himself with anxious little disclaimers. She might have imagined a worried, flustered Aldhelm sending the messages, but she had never actually seen him worried and flustered. That’s what made it all so disconcerting and dissonant. It wasn't like him, Aethelflaed thought.

 _Yea, I’m awake_ , she replied. _Meet at North Campus Hall in a half hour?_

 _Great, yes, see you then_ , he replied, almost instantaneously.

And Aethelflaed was left trying to shake the sense of foreboding it loosed in her.

It wasn’t actually so bad. Aldhelm looked his normal self when they met at the buffet line, his tray neatly organized with a plate of omelette and toast and a cup of black coffee, like he always drank. He gave her a thin smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, but he seemed well enough.

She wanted to press him, to ask: _What’s going on? Are you okay?_ But he hadn’t actually said that anything was going on, and she had the startling sense that if she tried to press him on the matter, he would just deny it, pretend that nothing was the matter and retreat back into his shell. Yes, even that sense was alarming - that feeling of awkwardness, of tension, like she might misstep and spoil something she didn’t even understand. It never felt like that with Aldhelm. Where was all this coming from?

Maybe it was coming from her, she realized.

Maybe it was her own tension.

She shook her head, as if she could physically clear her mind with the gesture, and gave Aldhelm what she hoped was a natural smile as they took seats at one of their favorite tables.

“How are you?” Aldhelm asked, after taking a long sip of his coffee.

“Uh…fine?” Aethelflaed swallowed, searching his face again. There _was_ a little tight thing around his eyes, wasn’t there? She couldn’t be imagining it. 

“You had something you wanted to tell me about…the other week?” He cut his omelette efficiently, gripping his fork and knife in a rigid way that looked almost forcibly constrained. She had to control her face from turning with a look of disturbed confusion.

“I never followed up on it,” he explained, because she hadn’t said anything.

“Oh, it’s fine,” she said, picking at her toast to cover the moment. “It’s nothing, really…” She wasn’t inclined to tell the whole story about Erik right then, and even if she had been, it seemed beside the point. Was that really why he’d texted her so urgently? To follow up on a throw away comment from almost…two weeks ago? It seemed unlikely.

“Are you sure?” He pressed, skewering a bite of egg on his fork tines.

“Yes!” She said, with perhaps a bit more force than was necessary. She thought they might have been on the brink of… _glaring_ at each other across the table, as if each trying to break the other’s bluff.

But then Aldhelm let out a breath, letting his fork clatter onto his plate and leaning back in his chair.

“I’m sorry, Aethelflaed, I’m…” His voice trailed off as he looked at her, his eyes a little creased, his mouth a grim line. He was struggling, she realized. She could see the weight of something in his face, rising to the surface like a slowly breeching whale.

“Is everything okay, Aldhelm?”

He gave that little smile again, but this time it edged slightly closer to his eyes.

“Yea,” he said. Then, “No.” He laughed at himself without humor. “I fear….I’ve found myself in a difficult position.”

Aethelflaed swallowed, simply relieved they were actually talking about it now.

“Is it…Mildrith?”

Aldhelm and Mildrith had broken up almost two months ago, but Aethelflaed knew they still texted sometimes.

But Aldhelm was looking confused, shaking his head with his eyes tight again.

“No, no. Not Mildrith. I….”

“You’ve met someone else then?” Aethelflaed offered gently.

Aldhelm gave a nod, then looked out across the dining hall, his throat bobbing.

“Is it…a guy?”

It was just a feeling she had. It wasn’t that Aldhelm was likely to be more anxious about dating a man than a woman - he seemed mostly at ease with his sexuality. But there was some edge to it, clearly. Something he was struggling to speak.

He gave her another small nod.

“That’s great,” she said, keeping her voice light. “I’m glad you’ve met someone you like—”

But Aldhelm made a swift gesture with his hand, as if trying to wipe away the moment and her words.

“It is not mutual,” he said, his words clipped and efficient.

 _Ah_. “And you’re…sure of that?”

Aldhelm nodded again, looking a little off of her face.

“How?”

“Hmmm?”

“How are you sure?”

“I —” he let out a controlled breath though his nose. “My experience has made me…quite attuned to those things. Reading signals, being certain when someone is…not interested in what I am offering. I’m sure you can imagine.”

He dipped his face into his coffee cup again and left it there for a long moment. Aethelflaed nodded, feeling a tender ache for him in his pain and confusion. No wonder he was tense.

“So…you asked him? If he reciprocates the feeling?”

“Not…exactly.”

Aethelflaed let the silence speak for her. Aldhelm flicked his eyes up to the ceiling, as if summoning more strength for this ordeal, then he fixed her with a wry look.

“I….touched his shoulder,” he said, after a long moment.

Aethelflaed felt her eyes narrow. “You…touched his shoulder? Like…a little pat on the back? And this gave you all the information you need?”

“Aethelflaed—”

“I’m sorry, but…” She was trying very hard to suppress a smile. She did not want to laugh at him, but it was starting to feel silly, all of this consternation over…

“It was more complicated than that, Aethelflaed.” Aldhelm pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers. He drew in a shuddering breath and then spoke with a low, tense tone. “You should have seen him. His face told me everything I needed to know.”

Aethelflaed’s heart dropped at his words, and at the sight of _his_ face, sad and tired, the tight mask of control utterly abandoned. She felt guilty for her teasing. Of course he would know how to read the signals.

“I’m sorry, Aldhelm. That must be…really hard. I’m so sorry that happened.”

She watched him swallow, his face still haggard and rough around the edges. And then she watched as he seemed to pack it all up, re-burying the lost, hurt look somewhere deep between his skin, effacing it all and replacing the mask. She thought she had never seen him so vulnerable, and even then, his rawest vulnerability was like a sandy shore, so quickly covered and erased by the waves.

“Are you okay?” She asked, like a bookend to the conversation, to the thing she had just witnessed.

“Yea,” he said and smiled. She was not sure she could trust it, not anymore, but it was nice to see it anyway. “It’s helpful to talk about it. Thank you, for listening.”

“Always.”

They ate together, their conversation easing into something more superficial, but she sensed that was what Aldhelm wanted.

Still, she worried about him, and she thought perhaps he could use a distraction.

“Do you want to do something together?” She asked, as they cleared their trays to the dish window. “It’s such a nice day. We could go for a walk, to the river—”

But she knew immediately that she’d said the wrong thing. Aldhelm’s body grew tense as a rod again, and he looked away from her.

“No,” he said, and she wondered what had gone wrong in what she’d said. He didn’t seem angry with her, just distant. “I think…I’ll just go back to my room. Thanks, though.”

And when they parted, she felt — somehow — like she had just made it all worse.

Erik’s day was….something different. That’s the only way he could think to describe it. It was strange, but not in a bad way. It felt a bit like he was watching himself, watching his life play out as if on a screen. There was an odd weightlessness to his body, and an odd sort of power to it, too, as if he’d been fitted for a new skin, or had his insides drained out and replaced with something different.

He thought about every silly super-hero movie he’d ever watched — the inevitable scene when the character discovered his new powers, that he could climb up walls or punch through a brick or something like that - the awkwardness of it all, and the elation of it, too.

What Erik was feeling - it wasn’t really anything like that. But he couldn’t stop thinking about the comparison anyway.

He knew what had happened to him, in the night. He remembered each aching moment of it — the shock, the fear, and the relief. But he found he did not have to think about it anymore. He could just let it subside, like an ebbing tide. Perhaps that’s where the feeling of power came from - this realization that he did not have to let it consume him. He’d been overtaken by something, but it had passed, and maybe it would never return. Maybe he’d gotten it out of his system.

He even tested the power by going to Sigefrid’s. He was overdue for a visit, and Sigefrid clapped him too hard in greeting when he showed up, and then proceeded to mock him mercilessly for several minutes. But that was the thrill of it — Erik was cool as a cucumber through the whole thing, letting Sigefrid croon over his “new and improved wheels,” (as he called them), giving him all the reactions he knew he wanted, and not even feeling resentful about it. That was the extent of this power — he could control what he felt so fully that it _made_ it real.

“You’re in a good mood,” Sigefrid observed, as they shared a drink on the back porch of his first floor apartment. “What, did you get laid or something?”

Erik grinned. “No.” He took a sip of his beer. “But I’m going to tonight.”

Sigefrid coughed a bit with surprise. “Alright! You sound pretty confident.”

“I am.”

Sigefrid had laughed and surveyed Erik with a look of the sort of man-to-man respect such exchanges earned. When Erik left an hour later, he had the feeling like he’d truly enjoyed an afternoon spent with his brother.

There had been one sharp, panging moment in an otherwise pleasant day, when Erik had remembered Aldhelm’s face the night before, as Erik had fled from him across the dark campus. Had Aldhelm thought him terribly rude? Or worse, did he think Erik was angry with him, or upset?

But no, Erik told himself, he would see Aldhelm in class next week, and he could apologize then - he would say he’d been feeling unwell, and it would be okay. It seemed a small thing, in comparison to the fool he’d made of himself before, and Aldhelm had forgiven him for that.

Erik could have gone to find Aldhelm in person, to apologize that day. He could have done that, he realized, if he wanted. But…

Another pang.

He didn’t think about Aldhelm again. He had that power now.

Erik wrote out the text to Aethelflaed, his fingers blessedly steady and sure over the keys.

_Does tonight still work?_

This was a complete violation of the rules they had set for themselves - the rules _Erik_ had set for them, he reminded himself. But in Erik’s current set of mind, rules like that felt strange or silly, like they applied to a version of himself that no longer existed. He knew he needed to see her - in a hard, raw sort of way that was entirely different from how he’d felt the week before. He wanted to give his body to her with a need he could not fully put into words.

Maybe that was part of the power, too — knowing how much he could need her.

He didn’t even have time to worry whether she would ignore the text, or draw it out to try and make him suffer. Aethelflaed responded swiftly, while the Messaging App was still open on his phone.

 _Yea, it works for me,_ she wrote. And then, a few seconds later, a pair of emojis: a licking tongue and a soft pink flower.

Well, that was pretty clear, wasn’t it?

When Aethelflaed opened the door to him an hour later, she looked carelessly sexy. Her hair was unspooling from a messy braid down her back, and her cheeks were red and flushed as if she’d just been running or laughing very hard. She wore a small tank top that exposed more than it covered, and a pair of Erik’s boxers. He had left them there, weeks ago, and she had simply washed them and claimed them and now wore them like a pair of shorts sometimes when they were alone together. It was strangely intimate, and Erik thought she might have done it with intention - to lay claim to him in whatever small way she could, or lay his claim on her in turn.

Erik moved into the room, his arousal already pressing low in his belly like an ache. He’d been thinking about this since her text - crafting his mind around it, wielding his thoughts like a bellows, so that they fed the fire of need inside of him. Need for her. He wanted to touch her very badly.

“Are you…doing okay?” Aethelflaed asked, looking up at him with a smile. There was a tentative note in her voice.

“Yea,” Erik said. He pulled her into his arms, pressing her hips against his own and burying his face against the side of her hair. Aethelflaed gave a surprised little sigh and then eased against him.

It was so different than he’d felt the last time - all that awkwardness and anxiety was gone. It was like his body had taken over from his mind.

“I missed you,” she said quietly and breathlessly.

“Good,” he said, almost unthinking, his hand coming up to cradle her throat. But she was pulling back from him, her eyes wide with confusion.

“Is that…is that why you didn’t come….last night? You wanted me to —”

“No…” Erik’s stomach dipped sickly with guilt. “No, I didn’t mean…” He had spoken as if they were in the throes of sex already, as if he could say strange things to her, pretending he was in control. “I was just feeling….I was feeling under the weather last night, that’s all. I’m better now. I shouldn’t have said it like that, I’m sorry —”

“No, it’s okay.” Aethelflaed was giving him a half-crooked smile, and he thought she could sense it now, too: the animal intensity in his body, the impulse that was driving him. She arched her hips into him again, closing the small distance that had grown between them.

And then they were kissing, Erik’s mouth hot and fast on hers. He unzipped his jacket, and she helped him pull it off his shoulders and throw it into the corner. Then she pressed him back into the door, and he pulled her against his body, sliding his hands up under the hem of the boxers she was wearing so he could feel the naked skin of her butt.

“You don’t want it….soft, tonight?” Aethelflaed asked him, breaking the intensity of the moment to speak with measured gentleness.

But he was rough and raw. “No,” he said, his voice hoarse.

She made a little noise in her throat, and he turned her, turned them both, so that she was pressed against the door, her face to the wood, her back exposed to him. He pulled her boxers down with one swift motion, leaving her naked from the waist down.

She gasped sharply. “Oh my _god_ , Erik —!”

He covered her mouth with one hand, bringing the other up between her thighs, brushing his fingers against her without pushing inside. She gave a low moan. He could feel how wet she was already.

“Do you want it soft, Aethelflaed?”

She shook her head, so her mouth slid against his hand.

“This is…” her voice vibrated through his fingers. “This is _exactly_ what I want.” Then she bit down on his thumb, with enough force to show just how rough she wanted it.

“Good,” he said again, and this time it made sense. He pushed his thumb in between her lips, and watched her eyes roll back towards him with a wild look. His other hand was still curled under the curve of her butt, leaving his fingers touching her with feather-light pressure.

“You’re mine,” Erik said, pushing his hand deeper into her cleft. “You belong to me.”

Aethelflaed sagged against the wall with a whimper, as if her legs had gone weak beneath her.

“Yes,” she gasped, the word muffled around his thumb. “ _Fuck_ , yes—”

Erik caught her body and picked her up fully in his arms. She was heavy against him, and it was almost hard to hold her as she squirmed around, kicking the boxers the rest of the way off her ankles. He dropped her down on the edge of the bed and fell to his knees in front of her.

“Open your legs,” he said in a low voice. She was looking at him, biting the corner of her mouth, with her face pink and her hand clutched in his hair. There was the bright spark of a challenge her eyes.

“I said, _open them_ ,” Erik said, making his voice rougher. Aethelflaed’s face flashed with pleasure. Her hand curled tighter against his scalp, forcing his face up a fraction to meet her eye.

“Make me,” she said imperiously.

Erik growled and pushed her legs apart with a rough motion. She cried out when his mouth met her. She was wet and smooth and recently shaved, which wasn’t something Erik asked for, but she did it sometimes anyway, as if to please him. It was true, it did make it easier to bury his face against her, to feel the swollen flush of her in his lips and his tongue.

Erik kissed her until she came, gasping and writhing into him, trembling as if her whole body was pressed against his mouth and not just the tenderest part of her.

He didn’t stop to rest, and Aethelflaed didn’t want him to. She was already turning over, bending herself over the bed, and Erik pulled her naked hips back against him and unbuckled his belt.

He pushed into her rough and hard and deep, as deep as he could go on the first thrust. It was easy - Aethelflaed was wet and open, and she was crying out little words of assent as he thrust into her again and again, his hands tight on her hips.

“Yes, god, yes, _fuck_ —!”

And then she looked up at him, her face wild and red, her gaze intense like the pull of a hard, hot string.

Erik loved her like that - her eyes rolling back, her mouth gasping in pleasure, her body shaking with the feeling of him inside of her. Erik couldn’t say he loved her, he wasn’t allowed to say that, not in any of the other moments when he might have. But he could say he loved the feeling of her under him, around him, tight and wet, her skin smooth against his, her face wide and open, and almost desperate, with that look like she was going to cry out his name, or beg him to come deep inside of her. Erik loved that.

And it was a relief deeper than release, to know that hadn’t changed. It wouldn’t change, and maybe nothing was changing about him at all. Maybe he was the same person he’d always been.

And of course — in a sense — he was right.

**sunday // feb 18th** ****

Aethelflaed woke to the comfortable pleasure of Erik in her bed - warm, half-naked, his body loose and relaxed with rest. She could roll into him, burrowing her face against his chest, and his half-sleeping arms would curl around her as if on instinct. She could press kisses against his collarbone until he groaned, still without waking, and she could —

“What are you doing?” Erik blinked up at her blearily, where her face hovered over his neck.

“I was…smelling you,” she said sheepishly.

Erik’s face flushed a bit, and he pulled his arms tighter against his body, as if he could contain more of his scent that way. “That’s…concerning.”

“You smell good,” Aethelflaed insisted.

“I doubt that.”

“Why would I be smelling you if you didn’t smell good?”

“I don’t know. For…blackmail?”

“ _Blackmail?_ Who — what — how would I use that —?”

“I don’t know,” he laughed, abandoning his self-consciousness to pull her close against him and let her bury her face against his neck.

“I think you smell good,” she said, easing into his tenderness and the soft touch of his hands on her back.

Last night had been — _God_ , she nearly flushed across her body just thinking about it. It had been good in the most intense sort of way. Erik had felt as different as it was possible to be from the week before, when he had needed such gentleness from her.

She liked it when he was hard and rough like that, raw and unyielding in his need. She knew it was a part of him — that for all his softness, he had a hard edge, too, and it always thrilled her a little when he showed it to her.

 _More than a little,_ she thought wryly, remembering how she had gone weak in the knees when he’d taken control of her body.

But this was nice, too - the sweet silliness of him, the softness of him around her and against her, the tender stroking of his fingers on her shoulder blade as he laughed at himself into her hair.

 _More than nice_ , she realized.

It felt like relief.

She propped herself up on her elbows, looking down into his face again - his wide, blue eyes, and the crease between his brows, like she had caught him in some small, worried thought.

She hadn’t realized the night before — in the pleasure and thrill of the sex — just how different he’d been acting. Hard, yes, but also…

“What is it?” Erik’s face was disconcerted.

“Hmm?”

“You just…you’re looking at me funny. Like I’ve got something on my face.”

“No —”

But that was it, wasn’t it? She saw his face now, the expressiveness of it - all his thoughts and feeling open on his features, his eyes like clear blue pools, incapable of hiding anything. But it hadn’t been like that last night, had it? He’d been so controlled, so contained, like….like he’d been wearing a mask.

“ _What_?” Erik was propping himself up now, so he could stare more directly back at her. She must have been giving him the strangest sort of look.

“Are you okay?” She asked, unable to hold the words back.

Erik’s face creased more deeply. “Well, this whole thing is a little weird, I gotta say.”

“I’m sorry, I just —”

It was like it had been with Aldhelm all over again - that subtle note of tension that was all the more impossible to ignore for its quietness.

“I’m sorry,” she said again. She didn’t know what else to say. _You seemed weird last night_ did not seem like an adequate reason, not when she’d been gasping and begging and thirsting for everything he’d done to her without a care in a world. _I only noticed it now_ felt equally pathetic.

She straddled him, at a loss for what to do, as if pinning him with her body might rise something out of him. His hands came up to her hips and his face cleared suddenly, his mouth turning in a smile.

“Oh, you’re just ready for more, is that it?”

There it was again. _What the —?_

It wasn’t the dirty talk perse - that was a normal enough thing for them. It just felt….forced, she realized. Like an act. He was good at it— whatever it was he was doing — but she had seen the most vulnerable parts of Erik, and now that she was wise to it…it was impossible to ignore.

Aethelflaed’s stomach curled up on itself, and she slid herself off of Erik’s hips with a weak, heavy motion.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” she said to the sheets.

“What?” Erik’s hands fell away with her thighs.

It was as if the memory of the night before was spoiling before her eyes, souring like rotten milk. “You don’t have to…to force yourself to be a certain way— just ‘cause you think it’s what I want.”

“Wh—I don’t — I didn’t!” Erik sat up, trying to come close to her body, but she turned away. He lifted her hair from her neck and pressed his face against it, so she could feel his throat vibrating against her skin when he spoke. “If you’re talking about last night…I wanted to fuck you like that, Aethelflaed. You must know that.”

The low hum of his voice pulsed through her, and the sour feeling eased a bit — that idea that it had all been fake, that he had forced himself to perform like that for _her_ — it retreated when she heard the honest need behind his words.

“What is it, then?” She asked, still facing away. “Something’s…off with you. I can tell.”

Erik’s body felt very still and tense behind her, and that was all the confirmation she needed.

“Nothing, I —”

She turned to see his face churning with a note of panic. He stared at her for a long moment, as if realizing he’d been caught in an act of dishonesty.

“I’m —” Erik’s mouth moved wordlessly for several moments. “I’m sorry, I just…I’ve been…thinking about someone.”

Aethelflaed felt her eyes go wide and a sick little flutter lurch into her heart.

Erik’s forehead creased. “No, I mean, I haven’t — I haven’t been _thinking_ about someone. I was…specifically _not_ thinking about someone. I mean, I was thinking about _you!”_

Aethelflaed was actually — literally — speechless. Her mouth just hung open, _attracting bugs_ , as her mother would say. She had no idea how to respond to this. Erik’s face turned with a look of deeper panic.

“It wasn’t — it’s not about _this_ —” He gestured to the general space around them. “It has nothing to do with _you —_ ”

“Yea. I’m sensing that.”

Aethelflaed didn’t want to feel this way— to feel this slow, heavy thing descend on her and bloom inside of her like a cold flower. She wasn’t supposed to feel like this, she knew. But she did.

“Aethelflaed —” Erik moved forward and took her face in his hands, then kissed the corner of her mouth. But she just felt stiff at his touch. “It’s…not what you’re imagining.”

“How do you know what I’m imagining?”

He gave her a sad smile. “I don’t know, I can just tell. But it’s not — it’s not like that, Aethelflaed.” He let out a breath. “It’s just a friend. I’m…worried about a friend.”

Aethelflaed blinked and swallowed, feeling the cold, heavy thing ease a bit. “Is it…something to do with your family?”

“I — ” Erik tilted his head. “I suppose, yea — it’s a bit to do with that.”

“Oh.” The cold thing was still there, but it felt more like guilt or regret — to think she’d been all wrapped up in her own little selfish jealousy. And here, Erik was dealing with something she probably couldn’t understand. His life was unfathomable to her in so many ways. She knew that.

“I’m sorry,” Erik said, his hands fiddling over themselves in his lap.

“Don’t be,” Aethelflaed said with a sigh. “It’s me who’s being an ass.”

“No, you’re right. I have been feeling weird…off, like you said.” He looked up from his hands with a shy look, and Aethelflaed felt of sharp pulse in her heart - something messy and tender bursting inside of her.

“You know, you can talk to me,” she said. “About stuff. If you want. You don’t have to. But if you want, you can talk to me about anything.”

Erik’s nostrils flared for a second. His eyes were bright. He nodded. “I think I might try to track down my friend today. To make sure things are…okay.”

“That’s good.”

Erik was fixing her with an unreadable expression, and the moment stretched between them. Then he swooped forward and pulled her against him, so that her legs spread around his waist. She felt her body soften and ease into his touch.

“But if you really need me to prove how much I like this — how much I like you… _well_ …”

Aethelflaed laughed, and Erik leaned down onto his back so she was straddling him again. It didn’t feel so forced anymore — not from him — or maybe the tension had just been eased by the conversation. She rocked against his hips and watched his eyes narrow and sharpen at the feeling of it. The sight sent a shooting flush up through her core.

She was kissing his neck and down his chest, relishing the feeling of his hands playing idly down her back. Under the circumstances, the question seemed to come out of nowhere.

“Aethelflaed —” he murmured against her hair. “Have you ever…been with a woman?”

“What?” She pulled up from his chest, almost laughing at the randomness.

His face was thoughtful and a little tender. “Have you ever had sex with another woman? Or dated one, or anything? Or just…liked one even?”

Aethelflaed’s confusion deepened. “What — where is this coming from? This isn’t like…lesbian rubbernecking, is it?”

“Wh -- _what?_ ”

“Like you just want to hear about me hooking up with a girl cause you think it’s hot.”

“ _No_ , I mean…” He raised his eyebrows, made a considering face. “Well…actually, now that you mention it…” And he squeezed her, and she rolled her eyes at him. “I was just curious is all. I’m sorry.” He gave her a look that was almost contained.

But he wasn’t wearing his mask anymore. She could see something hidden behind his eyes.

The realization edged into her like a sharp, warm wave.

“Is this…is this about your friend?” 

Erik swallowed. His face flushed, and he looked urgently away from her, into the corner of the room, as if there was something very important to be witnessed there. “I’m just asking, because — I thought — I’d never asked you before, about your sexuality or anything, and I’ve recently come to realize that I shouldn’t just assume —”

“We aren’t talking about _me_ here —”

“Yes,” Erik turned to her with a firm plea in his eyes. “We are.”

 _You can talk to me about anything._ Hadn’t she just said that to him? And hadn’t she just thought for a brief, bitter flash, that he had wanted someone else - been thinking of someone else — someone other than her, and hadn’t he said, no, it was just a friend, it wasn’t about that, and —

_You can talk to me about anything._

Aethelflaed tried to soften, to ease the tension inside of her. She pulled herself off of Erik’s lap and settled beside him, and he turned to face her, his body rigid with the motion.

“Yea,” she said, trying very hard to be gentle with the word. “I have. I had a…girlfriend, I guess, last summer. It was casual, but it was nice.”

Erik nodded, looking a bit relieved. “Did you know before? That you were into women?”

She still felt tight inside, wound and brittle. It wasn’t just the thought of Erik with another person, but Erik with a man —

She squeezed her eyes closed. She knew Erik was still watching her, probably as tight and wound inside as she was. She thought of Aldhelm and Mildrith, of how they’d broken up in part because he’d never felt safe enough to talk to her about stuff like this.

Aethelflaed let out a breath and opened her eyes. “I don’t know. Kind of, I guess. I mean, I've always found women beautiful, sexy, but I think a lot of women feel that way, even if they’re not Bi or Gay or anything. And then, my friends Hild and Iseult? They got together and I thought ‘ _oh, that’s nice, that would be nice, wouldn’t it?_ ’…but I never really met anyone who made me feel like I wanted that. Not until Eadith.”

“And, um, how did you two get together?”

“She was a…friend,” Aethelflaed said, very conscious of her words, and of the hidden current below the conversation that still sat unacknowledged. “A good friend. I thought she was cool, and smart, and beautiful, and I probably would have been happy to just stay her friend. But then she kissed me one day, and…it was good.” Aethelflaed thought of Eadith’s lovely face, and her long-fingered artist hands, and she went a little soft inside. “It was really good for me, I think. It helped me heal a bit, from Aethelred, and other stuff like that. Once you realize that life isn’t all about pleasing men, a lot of things open up.”

Erik smiled. He seemed less tense now, and the sight of it eased her, too.

“I think I can see that in you,” he said. “That change. Not that you were wrong before, but…I don’t know. You feel a little…easier in yourself now.”

“That’s a good way to put it.”

They lay there in silence for a while. Erik didn’t ask her anything else, and Aethelflaed tried not to stew in the quietness or wonder what he was thinking or replay his words in her head again.

“Were you scared?” He said, finally. “Of being with her. Did the idea of it…scare you?”

Aethelflaed reached back into the memory of her body, trying to pull up the feeling of that day, in the park, the sunshine on her back, Eadith’s lips against her own.

“No,” she said. “I was nervous, like you’re always nervous when you like someone. But I wasn’t scared of…being gay, being bi. I didn’t feel…weird about that. I mean, I was in the city, I was hanging out with artists and writers, half of Eadith’s friends were gay. There wasn’t any shame in it, you know?”

There was a long pause, and then Erik said, “No. I don’t know.”

He sounded very sad and lonely, and a rush of emotion came into Aethelflaed’s throat. In a breath, she felt her own little grievances fall abandoned, like so much useless baggage on the side of the road.

“Are you scared?” She asked, almost a whisper. He closed his eyes, but he didn’t chastise her, or try to change the subject.

“Yea,” he said.

“Erik, there’s nothing wrong with it —” The words rushed out of her with her breath. “There’s nothing wrong with feeling like that, with being — ”

“Aethelflaed.” His hands were over his face, hiding his eyes. She thought maybe she had pushed him too hard. Erik drew out his words slowly, his face still hidden. “Everyone who has ever been close to me — in my entire life — has told me that that is…the _worst_ thing I could be. That it’s disgusting, that _I’m_ disgusting for feeling like that —”

“They’re wrong,” she said. “It’s as simple as that, they’re wrong.”

“It’s not as simple as that.” He dropped his hands, but he didn’t look at her.

“Have you always felt this way? Have you always…known this about yourself?”

Erik took a shaky breath. He was staring up at the ceiling, his fist slightly clenched at his side, as if this was a test of endurance he had to push through.

“I don’t know. I guess it’s like you said. It’s easy to look back and think, ‘oh, maybe that was going on for me,’ but I didn’t realize it, maybe I… _couldn’t_ realize it. I was just….” His eyes were moving quickly back and forth as if tracing the same line of the ceiling over and over. He blinked a few times, and his eyes settled. “Sigefrid, he used to…torment kids in high school for stuff for like that. Not even for… _being_ gay, just cause he thought they acted like it, or something. I mean, I made fun of people for that kind of stuff, too - you had to, or it would turn on you…I’m not saying that’s an excuse. It’s just…if I’d actually thought that was me…” His eyes went very blank and hard. “I don’t think I would’ve been able to live, honestly.”

Aethelflaed didn’t rush to fill the silence, to patch up the holes of himself that he was exposing to her. That’s not what he wanted, she knew.

“That was then,” she said after a long time. “This is now.”

Erik’s eyes widened incredulously. “Yea, and they’re still completely in control of my life, Aethelflaed. Sigefrid and Dad. Nothing’s changed.”

“I know,” she said, and the sadness was back, cold and heavy inside of her. It was sadness for him, and for herself, too, because this vice on his life was on them as well. It was the reason they couldn’t have more than a hook up every week or so, the reason they had to pretend that it was just a casual nothing between them, even to each other sometimes. That was easier than admitting that they wanted something they could never have, something Erik’s family wouldn’t be able to stop itself from ruining, not if they ever acknowledged that it was real. 

And now Erik was facing…this. And she’d been right. She couldn’t really understand.

“What do you need from me?” She asked, trying not to sound as useless as she felt. “How can I help?” He was trying to unspool the tension in himself, she knew, just like she was. He would never let himself wallow about his family for long. He pulled her close, cradling his arms around her and burying his face against her hair.

“You are helping,” he said. “This is helping.” He smoothed a hand over her head. “I’m sorry to put this all on you. I’m sorry — I’m sorry I was acting weird. You know I don’t —” his voice was becoming tighter on each word. “You know this doesn’t mean — Aethelflaed…”

And then he just looked at her, wordless and desperate, as if trying to speak with only his eyes. 

“It’s okay, Erik,” she said, and it was. There was a relief in finally abandoning all the pretense. It was so much easier than not knowing. “I understand.”

Erik closed his eyes and let out a breath. “I would be so lonely without you, Aethelflaed.”

She swallowed. “Well, you have your friend,” she said, trying to be light and easy with her words.

“You’re my friend, too, you know.”

“Oh….am I your _friend_?” She said, squirming a little against his body. “I didn’t realize.”

Erik’s eyes narrowed. “Of course you’re my friend.” He pulled her tighter against him and his voice went soft. “Just cause I….also very much enjoy the noises you make when I’m inside of you…doesn’t mean I’m not your friend.”

“Hmmmm…” Aethelflaed wasn’t sure how far the teasing could stretch, not after how intense he’d been feeling before. But she took the risk.

“A feeling you share for all your friends, apparently,” she said.

To her relief, Erik snorted. “Jeez — Jesus, Aethelflaed, no one’s gonna be _inside of_ anyone—”

“Well if you do have sex with him, let me know.” Her made her voice light and unbothered. There was an ache at the words — of course there was. But Erik wasn’t hers, not actually, no matter what they said sometimes to each other in the heat and the closeness of sex. She couldn’t keep him from this, even if she wanted to. “We should probably start using condoms again.”

“Aethelflaed. There is no…sex happening, you’re being ridiculous.” His face was stern as he looked down at her.

She shrugged. “I know what happens when you set your eye on someone. You’re a very sexual being, Erik.”

He pushed her onto her back so he could press down on top of her. “As opposed to Aethelflaed, who’s a born prude.”

“And what about this guy? Is he a _born prude_?”

“You’re just trying to rile me!”

“Hmm…perhaps you need to punish me.”

He laughed and the sound made Aethelflaed smile. She thought maybe she had done something good —something good for him. He seemed easier in himself, just like he’d described her before. It certainly didn’t feel forced, when he pulled her onto his lap with one smooth motion, turning her so she lay belly down against his legs. He flicked her shirt up to expose her naked butt, and slid two fingers inside of her. She groaned as she felt his erection start to stir.

“Are you thinking about him now?” She asked, turning up to look at his face.

He pulled his hand out of her. “Aethelflaed!” His eyes were wide and indignant.

“You can tell me,” she said, and she meant it. “I won’t think you’re weird. You can tell me anything.” She was pleased with herself for meaning it.

He turned her body and leaned down over her, pushing off his boxers so he could press himself against her opening. “No, Aethelflaed,” he said. “I’m thinking about you.”

It was only later — after Erik had left, after Aethelflaed had spent some time relishing in the feeling of it — the memory of the intimacy they had forged together, and the good thing she had done for him, and the pleasure and relief of knowing that he still wanted her, that he still needed her, that they had shifted, together, towards something even more worth needing…

After the thrill of all that had subsided to a warm, steady glow — Aethelflaed thought of Aldhelm.

She remembered the sight of his sad, tired face, heavy with the pain of caring for someone who did not care for him in return. And she thought she could feel his sorrow, as deeply as she’d felt her own pleasure just a few breaths before.

She felt sorry, in that moment, that Aldhelm and Erik did not know each other. She couldn’t say why she felt it — it was the sort of feeling that lurked at the edge of awareness, like the vague memory of a dream. She felt sorry that she could not introduce them — because Erik was not a secret she was allowed to share.

But still, she wished they could have met.

She thought they might have gotten along.

Aldhelm hadn’t been expecting anyone. Certainly not at 4pm on a Sunday afternoon, when most people were frantically trying to work through their procrastinated homework pile. Aldhelm was already caught up on everything for the first part of the week and had moved on to readings for Friday’s lectures. He might have felt a bit foolish about it, under the circumstances. But in truth, it was what he did every week.

He certainly hadn’t been expecting to see Erik when he opened the door - his face a little pink, as if with cold, the tips of his hair frosted with ice, as if he’d taken a shower and then walked across campus with his head still wet.

Aldhelm was still gathering something to say when Erik started speaking first.

“I’m sorry — I…I didn’t mean to surprise you. I had to ask around — to find your room. I know that’s kind of weird.” He winced.

Aldhelm half-expected him to put a foot against the jam so that Aldhelm couldn’t close the door on him. Not that he’d been planning to — to close the door, that is. But Erik just had that sort of energy.

“I’m surprised you found anyone who knows where I live.” This was, perhaps, not the most artful greeting, but it would have to serve.

Erik’s face creased. “No? That was the easy part. I…”

He appeared at a loss to express what the hard part had been.

“What’s up, Erik? Did you…need something?”

“Can I come in? If you’re not busy?”

Perhaps Aldhelm _was_ considering closing the door. No, no — he was just _imagining_ closing the door, saying “ _Yes, I am busy, in fact_ ,” and then slamming it neatly in Erik’s face.

But he wasn’t actually going to do that.

Instead, he opened it wider and stepped aside, letting Erik follow him into the room.

“Nice place you’ve got,” Erik said, looking around, his eyes lighting on the record player, the shelves of vinyl records, the framed art posters on the far wall. Aldhelm felt like he was seeing it all again through Erik’s eyes, and wondered if it came off vaguely pretentious.

But no. Erik never seemed to find him pretentious, did he?

“I told you I had a huge single,” Aldhelm said, and then felt his stomach tighten uncomfortably. He’d said that to Erik on Friday — when they’d stood at the fork in the path, and the ice had been falling from the sky in little curled chips and piling up into drifts on the shoulders of Erik’s dark coat.

Erik nodded, his face a little taut, as if he too had returned to the moment at the fork in the path. Something stirred again in Aldhelm’s belly.

“Did you have a good weekend?” Erik asked, with a note of force behind his smile.

Aldhelm reciprocated with smile that was probably equally dry. “It was quiet.”

Erik was still standing, bobbing his feet like a restless Labrador, and it appeared he was not about to get to the point anytime soon.

Aldhelm suppressed a sigh and took a seat in the big armchair that filled one corner of the room. He almost immediately regretted the choice, for it left Erik nowhere else to sit but on his bed. The sight of that — of Erik, on his bed, wide-faced, bright-eyed, equal parts awkward and charming — that was not something Aldhelm had been prepared for that afternoon.

And he was certainly not prepared for what Erik said next.

“I just wanted to — um. About Friday. I just wanted to say, I realize I was kind of…weird when I left. I mean, maybe you didn’t notice, and this is just me overthinking and making it even weirder. But if it did feel weird — to you, I mean — I just wanna say, I’m sorry.”

In the drawn-out moments and pauses of Erik’s little speech, Aldhelm had time to ponder on how this had all gone sideways.

He hadn’t even liked the man — not like _that_ — or at least, he hadn’t thought he did. Not until he’d reached out on impulse to touch him, his hand still tingling with the heat of Erik’s own, and then watched as Erik’s face caved in on itself before he’d turned and ran from him, into the night.

He hadn’t really conceptualized the feeling of it as _rejection_ , not until he’d said as to much to Aethelflaed yesterday. But once the feeling had been spoken into existence, it refused to retreat back into the undercurrent of his mind, and so he’d been stuck in a reluctant sort of malaise, unwillingly grieving something he hadn’t even known existed.

And he certainly hadn’t imagined the whole ordeal as anything other than a rather pathetic footnote to an otherwise rationally-managed sexual life. After all, stewing over an unreciprocated attraction to a _straight man_ was exactly the kind of experience he worked diligently to avoid.

But now Erik was in his room, bringing with him all the strange, slightly dizzying tension that seemed to exist between them, like the steady pull of a tide, or the hot pressure of sun on his back. And he was giving Aldhelm an apology, an apology that was practically… _romantic_ in its earnestness, and —

“Aldhelm?”

Erik was looking at him, clearly awaiting a response.

“It’s alright, Erik,” he said, clearing his throat with a small cough. “I’m sorry for… _making things weird_ myself.” He knew there was a hidden taste of bitterness behind his words, one that had nothing to do with Erik, and everything to do with his own self-judgement.

But Erik’s face was turning with confusion. “But you didn’t — you didn’t do anything? I was just feeling…unwell. It wasn’t your fault. What would you have to be sorry for?”

This was a turn of events that Aldhelm had not conceived of. He would have thought Erik was lying in an attempt to ease the awkwardness, but his eyes were as wide and guileless as ever. 

No, it appeared that against every assumption Aldhelm had made (and had clung to with sour self-loathing for the last 48 hours) that Erik had _not_ thought Aldhelm was coming onto him, and had not fled from him because of it.

So what the hell _had_ happened then?

And why was Erik here now, trying to apologize for it?

Into this moment of confusion, a knock came at the door.

Erik and Aldhelm stared at each other for a breath, and then a woman’s voice sounded, muffled and dim through the wood.

“Aldhelm? Are you in there?”

It would be Aethelflaed, Aldhelm knew, even though he couldn’t quite tell from her voice. There was no other woman who would show up unannounced at his room. Aldhelm looked uneasily between Erik and the door, suddenly at a loss. He couldn’t exactly turn her away, could he? And he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

He looked back to Erik and saw him shrug and raise his eyebrows, as if in assent.

“Come in,” Aldhelm called, his voice a little gravelly.

Aethelflaed smiled as she let herself into the room, her cheeks slightly flushed from the cold, her green scarf trailing messily off her shoulder. Aldhelm smiled at the sight of her.

And then everything went weird.

Aethelflaed had frozen stiff, and she was looking between Aldhelm and Erik while her face drained of all its color. Meanwhile, Erik seemed to be absorbing the color that had abandoned Aethelflaed, so his face grew several shades redder in dramatic fashion before Aldhelm’s eyes.

“Do you two…know each other?” Aldhelm asked tentatively.

“ _You two_ know each other?” Aethelflaed answered, with a note of rising fluster.

Erik opened his mouth and then shut it again, as if realizing that adding his own echo of “ _you two know each other_?” would probably be a bit farcical.

“Um…” Aldhelm started, looking to Erik. But Erik’s mouth seemed to have been glued shut, and now his eyes were growing larger and larger, like a startled frog. “Erik and I met in Econ class…” Aldhelm explained, with as much steadiness as he could muster. “We’ve been…hanging out a bit?"

“But…” Aethelflaed was looking at Erik, blinking wildly with confusion. “But Aldhelm’s… _my_ friend.”

Erik’s returning look was more consternated than confused. “Yea, well, he’s…um…my friend, too.”

“But he’s been my friend since…freshman year!” Aethelflaed said this as if it was clearly an insurmountable point in her favor.

But Erik just said, “Okay…?” and looked at her with something like anger.

That was when Aldhelm realized that these two people - two people he had not even realized knew each other let alone had some sort of close relationship - were conducting a small, passive-aggressive fight over _him._

He had to admit, the experience was rather surreal. 

“How do you two know each other?” He asked, feeling like this was a simple question that would probably serve to clear up a lot of confusion.

But somehow, that just seemed to make it worse.

“Ummm…” Aethelflaed was looking at Erik as if trying to say “ _Help me out here”_ with her eyes, and Erik was looking at Aethelflaed as if trying to say “ _How am I supposed to help you out here_ ” with _his_ eyes, and no one was really helping each other out.

“I think I…understand,” Aldhelm said. They broke their gaze with each other and looked at him, their faces mirroring taut relief. “You two are in a relationship?”

Aldhelm had little to spare for his own feelings on the situation. He was overcome just trying to manage theirs.

“No,” Erik said, with a surprising amount of force. “I mean, not — not really, not like…”

“Not like what, Erik?” Aethelflaed asked.

“I mean, we are seeing each other,” Erik amended, flashing a sheepish look in Aethelflaed’s direction. “It’s just…kind of complicated, it’s not…”

Aethelflaed looked at Aldhelm squarely. “It’s not a real relationship - that’s what Erik’s trying to say.” Aldhelm picked up on the fact that her frustration was not actually directed at him. But it still felt pointed, for some reason.

Erik’s eyebrows were creeping further and further up his forehead, his anger abandoned in favor of something else - something a little urgent and pleading behind his eyes. “I just mean…it’s not, like, exclusive or anything. We’re not…we’re not exclusive.”

There was a moment of silence as Aldhelm tried to make sense of this information, and of the fact that Erik seemingly wanted him to have this information.

Aethelflaed made a low noise in her throat, and her eyes widened, as if in realization. “Wait, so this is — this is the guy?” She asked Erik. "Aldhelm is The Guy?”

“ _Aethelflaed—!”_ Erik’s eyes widened, too, in outrage and panic, and this was perhaps the most startling thing Aldhelm had witnessed so far.

“Sorry!” Aethelflaed said, and it was her turn to look sheepish.

Aldhelm was trying to keep up with the emotional undercurrent of the conversation. But he found the tension in the room so thick and heavy — it was almost like being drunk. His head felt fuzzy and his chest was tight.

That’s when Aethelflaed turned her gaze on him and opened her mouth with a silent “ _Oh_.” Aldhelm felt the foreboding of her words before she even spoke.

“So — what — Erik is —?”

“Aethelflaed.” It came as a low, tense sound, half a warning, half a plea. Aethelflaed’s mouth slammed like a closing door.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I think I should leave.”

Erik made a muffled choking noise. “You’re just gonna come in here, blow everything up, and then leave?!”

“Blow everything up? _Blow everything up?!_ Oh yes, let me go get the bomb out of my backpack and add that to the mix, I’m sure that’ll help —”

“It was a metaphor, Aethelflaed, Christ —”

“I know it was _a metaphor_ , Erik, I’m just saying, it was a bit over the top!”

Erik and Aethelflaed were both equally red-faced now, and Aldhelm considered for a moment offering to leave himself and let them work it out. But then he remembered they were in his room.

He took in a tight breath. “It’s clear that we’re all….a little surprised. And all a little…flustered, perhaps?”

Erik forced a smile, his forehead creased with unrestrained discomfort. Aldhelm watched Aethelflaed touch Erik’s arm lightly and try to give him a small, apologetic look. But he still sat as rigid as a wooden board.

The tension was heady now - somehow more blazing in the absence of the open frustration that had been flying around just a moment before. It had already been tense enough before Aethelflaed arrived. There’d been something simmering between him and Erik - something that was becoming more and more clear the longer they sat here. And now there was the tension between Erik and Aethelflaed added to the mix— obviously romantic, obviously sexual — and well, Aethelflaed was a little sharp on him, too, wasn’t she? She always did demand his attention, even as she gave it back in turn, and now, and now….

She was trying to conceal it, but Aldhelm could see the sting of this discovery burning behind her eyes like a hot ember. It was something like jealousy - but whether it was for his sake or for Erik’s, he honestly could not say.

He found himself suppressing a laugh - wild, a bit unhinged, certainly inappropriate. But he’d been imagining — for one startling moment — all three of them simply taking off their clothes and starting to fuck. 

It seemed only marginally more ridiculous than what was currently happening in his room.

Aethelflaed spoke again. “I really do think I should leave.”

Aldhelm looked up at her, controlling his expression and the ridiculous flurry in his chest. “You came to see me? Was there something you needed, or…?”

She curled her hands into her pockets. She hadn’t even taken off her coat. “I was just….I just wanted to check on you and…see how you were doing. With the…thing. That happened.”

The urge to laugh somehow did not retreat. Instead, it grew, flaring up his throat like a flame, and he had to swallow compulsively to quell it.

“What happened?” Erik asked, with clear concern. “Is everything okay?” He looked between Aethelflaed and Aldhelm, utterly nonplussed.

Aldhelm buried his face in his hands. It was the only measure of control he had left.

“I think maybe you should let us work this out, Aethelflaed.”

“Yep.” Her voice was clipped and quiet. “Yep, I’ll just, uh…see myself…out.” The door closed on her final word, and then there was just the sound of her footsteps retreating down the hallway.

Aldhelm left his face in his hands for far too long, he knew. He was sure Erik was staring at him with some expression of panic or confusion. But he needed to be certain he wouldn’t raise his head and start laughing out into the room like a madman. He was quite convinced that would not make anything better.

So it was only when the quivering in his jaw had finally settled that he looked up.

He was alone with Erik and his wide blue eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really did write a cliff-hanger, didn't I? I usually don't do that, I'm sorry! I promise there is LOOOOOOOOOTs of fun stuff on the horizon.


End file.
